Chapter 96#

Come Seduce Me Quickly#

During the feast, cups clinked and toasts were exchanged. King Luofu proposed many conditions to Youzhou—establishing a supervisory envoy, joining forces to attack Lizhou, and so on. Su Ruhui agreed to everything without hesitation. After all, he wasn’t the real Yan Jinyu, so his promises didn’t count. Once he left, the remaining mess would be left for the Yan family of Youzhou to worry about.

Sang Chiyu sat together with Han Ye. “Zhou Xiaosu” had become Sang Chiyu’s “concubine,” so naturally, she no longer sat with “Yan Jinyu.” Following King Luofu’s instructions, the demon attendants arranging the seats deliberately placed Sang Chiyu and “Zhou Xiaosu” directly across from “Yan Jinyu.” The goal was to make Yan Jinyu watch his own wife submit to another man, unable to swallow his food. King Luofu felt quite pleased with himself—by humiliating Yan Jinyu like this for Sang Chiyu, Sang Chiyu would surely respect him as a good father even more.

Inside the hall, lascivious songs filled the air, and the female demons’ water sleeves swayed before their eyes. Sang Chiyu had no interest in watching the dances; he only wanted to use his mind-reading technique to probe Su Ruhui’s thoughts, to figure out why he had suddenly gotten angry. In Sang Chiyu’s memory, Su Ruhui rarely lost his temper. Even when Sang Chiyu had blown his precious paradise into a junkyard, Su Ruhui hadn’t shown anger. So why was he inexplicably angry now?

The golden-furred kitten attendant eagerly refilled his wine. “Holy Son, this wine is really sweet. Try it.”

Sang Chiyu stared at her for a moment, then suddenly understood.

“Leave,” Sang Chiyu said.

The kitten attendant was startled. “Holy Son?”

“Disappear from my sight,” Sang Chiyu said.

The cat attendant pouted, covered her face, and ran off.

Sang Chiyu looked back at Su Ruhui’s side. Not angry anymore, right?

His gaze suddenly froze. He saw Su Guanyu appear behind a stone pillar across from him. Su Guanyu nodded at him, a sneering smile on his face.

Sang Chiyu closed his eyes and took a deep breath, warning himself not to pay attention to Su Ruhui anymore. He should make Su Ruhui open the Heavenly Gate as soon as possible and send him back to reality. He counted his heartbeats to measure time, waiting quietly for the banquet to end so he could privately seek out Su Ruhui. One hour, two hours passed. He noticed that Su Ruhui hadn’t eaten a single grain of rice and had barely touched his dishes. Was he feeling unwell? Or was he still angry? Sang Chiyu couldn’t help but feel restless. He had already driven that cat attendant away—why was Su Ruhui still angry?

So much time had passed, and Su Ruhui hadn’t even looked up at him much.

Forget it, he might as well read his mind. Sang Chiyu moved his fingers, about to activate the mind-reading technique, when Su Ruhui suddenly stood up. He excused himself, saying he needed to relieve himself, and left the hall. “Zhou Xiaosu” beside Sang Chiyu also quietly slipped away. Sang Chiyu thought he should go find Su Ruhui and clear things up, but he held his cup for a long moment, hesitating. By the time he looked up, Su Ruhui’s figure had already disappeared outside the hall.

After about half an incense stick’s time, the one who had gone to relieve himself returned. “Zhou Xiaosu” rustled as she sat down beside Sang Chiyu, leaning closer to him. Sang Chiyu frowned and looked at her. Their eyes met, and “Zhou Xiaosu” lowered her gaze coquettishly, asking, “Jade Lang, tell me—between me and that little cat attendant just now, who’s prettier?”

Sang Chiyu: “…”

This person was Su Ruhui.

“Who’s prettier, really?” Su Ruhui tugged at his sleeve.

Sang Chiyu looked down at his own sleeve corner, slowly pulling it out of Su Ruhui’s grasp.

“I didn’t look carefully at her face,” Sang Chiyu said, eyes downcast. “I don’t know if she’s pretty or ugly.”

Su Ruhui let out a long “oh.” “Wasn’t she the concubine King Luofu bestowed upon you? Doesn’t she serve you?”

“I live alone,” Sang Chiyu replied quickly.

Su Ruhui turned his head to look at him. “Why? That little cat was so cute. Even I wanted to pet her a couple of times.”

“Too noisy,” Sang Chiyu said.

“You have some of her fur on you.” Su Ruhui pointed at his shoulder.

Sang Chiyu tilted his head to look at his shoulder, frowning as he brushed away the strand of cat fur.

“The wind blew it onto me,” he explained.

This answer seemed to satisfy Su Ruhui. He winked at Sang Chiyu and asked, “Do you still remember my shixiong?”

Sang Chiyu averted his gaze, refusing to look at this pretentious and affected fellow.

“No,” he answered.

Su Ruhui wouldn’t stay still. He reached out again to grab Sang Chiyu’s sleeve. “That dashing, unequaled Su Ruhui? You really don’t remember?”

Sang Chiyu said, “I only remember the shameless, pretentious Su Ruhui.”

Su Ruhui cast him a sorrowful glance. “Do you still remember what your relationship was?”

Sang Chiyu didn’t reply. He took the wine glass from Su Ruhui’s hand and pushed the dishes in front of him.

“Eat. Don’t drink,” he said.

Su Ruhui looked at his profile with longing, softly calling, “Yu’er.”

Sang Chiyu didn’t respond.

Su Ruhui called again, “Sang-ge.”

Sang Chiyu hummed in acknowledgment.

Sang Chiyu hadn’t been affected by the Spiritual Heart Connection; Sang Chiyu still remembered him. It felt as if boundless joy had blossomed in Su Ruhui’s heart, and his mood lifted considerably.

But at that thought, Su Ruhui’s heart skipped a beat.

Then why did Sang Chiyu hate him the most and seal his chicken with love?

The two fell into silence. Sang Chiyu noticed Su Ruhui frowning.

He must be talking to the system, Sang Chiyu guessed, and quietly activated his “mind-reading” technique.

His guess was correct. Inside Su Ruhui’s mind, two different voices were speaking.

A flat, unfamiliar male voice said, “Host, quickly seduce him. That virus Su Guanyu is here too. If he discovers the memory-blocking algorithm and stops Sang Chiyu’s algorithm from running, you’re done for! The body is the best way to tame a man—make him utterly devoted to you from now on!”

“You want me to seduce him here?” Su Ruhui raised an eyebrow. “Strip-tease?”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll provide you with a strip-tease tutorial,” the male voice said.

“…” Su Ruhui let out an ambiguous laugh. “Scram.”

That unfamiliar male voice must be Su Ruhui’s assistant system, Sang Chiyu thought expressionlessly. Su Ruhui had recovered his memories, but he didn’t seem to have any intention of opening the Heavenly Gate. Instead, he wanted to use a physical relationship to force Sang Chiyu into submission.

Su Ruhui, you cunning bastard. Sang Chiyu’s expression turned cold.

He was already wearing the collar. He would never fall for that trick again.

Another half hour passed, and the banquet finally ended. The sun had already set. Su Ruhui followed behind Sang Chiyu, boarded his carriage, and went back to his residence with him. Both had their own thoughts. As they were leaving, they realized Bai Ruoye hadn’t attended. But for now, they had no time to care where Bai Ruoye had gone. Throughout the journey, neither Su Ruhui nor Sang Chiyu spoke. The carriage was silent, save for the rhythmic rumbling of wheels over the gravel path.

By the time they reached the detached villa, the sky had darkened. Sang Chiyu dismissed the demon attendants, lit a lantern himself, and led Su Ruhui through the courtyard. They stopped in front of a spacious room. Sang Chiyu said flatly, “Rest early.”

Seeing that Sang Chiyu had no intention of entering, Su Ruhui asked, “You’re not coming in?”

“Mhm.”

“Jade Lang,” Su Ruhui deliberately tugged at his sleeve, “If you snatched me back to your residence, shouldn’t you spend the night with me?”

Sang Chiyu looked at Su Ruhui, his face cold and clear.

“Su Ruhui,” Sang Chiyu said, “don’t make a scene.”

Su Ruhui simply dissolved the transformation talisman. His figure instantly elongated, and the woman’s dress couldn’t contain his frame. A large tear split across the shoulder, revealing pale skin and a sharp, angular shoulder blade. Su Ruhui didn’t mind. He tugged at his sleeve and said, “Not going to reminisce with me? Haven’t seen you in so many days. Don’t you miss me?”

“No,” Sang Chiyu said stiffly.

Most of Su Ruhui’s shoulder was exposed. The night wind was cold, and Sang Chiyu frowned as he watched. He took off his outer robe and draped it over Su Ruhui.

Su Ruhui said, “You don’t miss me, but I miss you. I want hugs and kisses and snuggles. That cat attendant of yours said you were injured. What happened?”

“I’m not injured,” Sang Chiyu lied without changing his expression. “That was just her excuse to take Zhou Xiaosu.”

“King Luofu didn’t make things difficult for you? How did you dodge the Spiritual Heart Connection?” Su Ruhui poked his chest.

That poke landed right on the wound. Sang Chiyu felt a sharp pain in his chest, barely suppressing it as he took a step back.

From Su Ruhui’s perspective, it seemed Sang Chiyu wouldn’t even let him touch him. Su Ruhui could sense that Sang Chiyu had grown much colder.

Su Ruhui asked, stunned, “What’s going on?”

Sang Chiyu lowered his head, taking a breath to steady himself. “Su Ruhui, is there anything you need to confess to me?”

“Confess?” Su Ruhui echoed softly.

Under the lantern light, he examined Sang Chiyu. Sang Chiyu’s cold, pale face was gilded like a mask, impossible to read. Su Ruhui sighed, smiled helplessly, and asked, “You remembered?”

“Mhm,” Sang Chiyu said succinctly. “Everything.”

Su Ruhui should have expected this, but he hadn’t dared to dwell on it. What other reason could Sang Chiyu have to hate him now, if not those past events? What was there to say? Apologize? Tell him that their true relationship wasn’t lovers but enemies—that he had killed Sang Chiyu, pulled his consciousness into the paradise, written him a lonely and tragic script, and made Sang Chiyu’s fate wait for his salvation. Did Sang Chiyu want to hear that? Sang Chiyu must hate him to death by now.

See? He wouldn’t even touch him anymore.

The naked truth laid bare. An insurmountable chasm suddenly opened between them.

Su Ruhui suddenly wanted to flee, to stop facing the impending pain.

He laughed bitterly to himself. Since when had he learned to escape? That wasn’t his style.

Wait a little longer, Su Ruhui thought. Rest for a night, think of what to say, and discuss it in the morning.

“Sang-ge, I haven’t slept in days,” Su Ruhui said with a smile. “I’ll turn in first.”

“You—” Sang Chiyu was taken aback.

The door panel in front of Sang Chiyu slammed shut. The two stood on opposite sides of the thin door—one in the pitch-black room, the other under the dim yellow light. Sang Chiyu stood still for a moment, then turned and walked back to his own sleeping quarters. He lit a single lamp, knelt at the table, and sat alone, keeping vigil under the cold, desolate moon.

What was Su Ruhui thinking? Sang Chiyu had expected Su Ruhui to argue, to beg for mercy, to play pitiful and trick him into softening. But Su Ruhui had done none of that. That notoriously shameless bastard had chosen to run away. No—Su Ruhui was never one to sit idly by. Perhaps he would come to seduce him tonight. That’s what he had discussed with the system during the banquet, wasn’t it? If Sang Chiyu went to sleep, the next time he opened his eyes, he might find a naked Su Ruhui lying on his chest.

Time passed, the night deepened. The cold moon flowed like water, drifting over the ice-cracked plum-pattern floor tiles. The room was filled with translucent, watery light. Since moving in, Sang Chiyu hadn’t changed the original layout of the room. Suwu Princess’s saber and whip rested on a wooden rack; a square vessel held crimson plum blossoms—once replaced daily by Dan Tai Jing, now tended to carefully by the cat attendants. The plums were as red as the blood in Sang Chiyu’s heart. He stared at them quietly.

The door remained tightly shut, with no sign of being pushed open. Sang Chiyu’s brows knitted deeply.

Why hasn’t Su Ruhui come to seduce me yet?

The lamplight illuminated his cold, clear face. He knelt motionless at the table, straining his ears for the sound of the night watch. He stood guard by the light, refusing to leave, afraid of missing Su Ruhui when he came to seduce him. But more than half the night had passed, and Su Ruhui still hadn’t come.

Had he given up? Sang Chiyu thought.

Sang Chiyu should have felt relieved—after all, Su Ruhui was the hardest to deal with. Sang Chiyu didn’t know how he would refuse him if Su Ruhui actually came. If Su Ruhui threw a tantrum, would he have to handcuff him? Tie him up from head to toe? Now that Su Ruhui hadn’t come, Sang Chiyu didn’t feel relieved. Instead, he felt irritated.

Sorrowfully, he thought: How could Su Ruhui give up?