SEHE Chapter 79

Slap

Just as Tang Xizhui’s warm lips were about to touch Pei Yanci’s clothing, his wrist was grabbed.

Tang Xizhui looked up in confusion.

“Isn’t the Nine-Thousand-Years being a bit too impatient?” He looked down at him from his superior position, his tone already carrying a commanding undertone. “I want to see Xiao Yu.”

Tang Xizhui’s index finger, inserted in his waistband, moved slightly. “It’s getting late. I’ll properly summon Xiao Yu for you tomorrow. Don’t you trust this servant’s credibility in cooperation? Every time you’ve wanted something, haven’t I gotten it for you?”

He had only spoken a few times, yet back when he was a servant, he had been taken advantage of quite often.

“Right now, let’s settle the proper business first.” Pei Yanci extracted his fingers from the waistband.

“Fine.” Tang Xizhui lost interest, leaning his upper body back, his whole being radiating a languid air of rejection. Suddenly he noticed a strand of hair had fallen across his forehead.

His pale fingers lightly lifted it, and he glanced at Pei Yanci with a mixture of shock and panic.

In the next moment, he wound that strand of hair around his finger, his eyes turning vicious as he moved to tear it out decisively.

Pei Yanci was quick—his hand even quicker—pressing down on his wrist to stop him. “What are you doing? Doesn’t that hurt?”

Why would this perfectly fine person engage in self-harm?

Tearing out this tuft of hair would inevitably involve skin and blood. Even if he didn’t find it painful, just watching made his own teeth ache.

“Is it bothering your eyes?” His fingers clutched at his own hair relentlessly, the black and white distinct—fingers and hair, black and white pupils, clearly demarcated. The black was deep and manic, the white was bleak and cold. The fierce resentment in his eyes clearly wanted to become thoroughly entangled with Pei Yanci.

Endlessly, without cease.

“Do you find me slovenly?”

“No.” Pei Yanci couldn’t fathom his thoughts, just as he’d previously been unable to guess why they kept meeting at times and places where they shouldn’t encounter each other.

“Why make things difficult for yourself?” He grabbed his wrist with one hand while loosening the hair tightly wound around his fingers with the other. Tang Xizhui’s wrist bones were thick—his thumb and index finger formed a circle that could barely encircle them. In truth, he was very tall and robust, his martial arts skills unfathomably deep, yet when he looked at someone with that resentful gaze, Pei Yanci couldn’t help but feel his heart shake with confusion.

This was a bewitching demon who hooked people’s souls.

But you absolutely could not be deceived by his appearance. That so-called deep affection was merely a means to achieve his goals.

Pei Yanci understood this deeply, because he himself was the same kind of person.

Tang Xizhui had no background or backing. Relying solely on his own capabilities, he’d fought his way through the palace filled with shrewd individuals to become the Chief Overseer of the Elu Bureau, whose power overshadowed the court and whom everyone feared. Like himself, he had long since cast aside such weak and useless things as emotions, his heart as firm as ice.

People like them didn’t believe in others’ feelings toward them either. They could display appropriate emotions at appropriate moments—to lure, mislead, and hunt when the opportunity arose—so naturally others could do the same.

They didn’t expect genuine feelings from others, nor did they give genuine feelings to others.

They were independent and powerful, because they both understood that power was their greatest foundation for survival.

But now, he was beginning to have expectations about a certain person, a certain emotion—and this was not a good thing.

Pei Yanci closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, released the hair from between his fingers, and only then let go of his hand.

“If this strand of hair bothers your eyes, then don’t tuck it behind your ear.”

Tang Xizhui’s expression was indifferent. “Wouldn’t that look even stranger?”

Whether hair was loose or tied up, every strand’s position was the result of his meticulous calculation.

The top of his head suddenly lightened as his hair crown was removed, and his waterfall of long, straight black hair cascaded down, covering his shoulders, back, and waist.

A flash of amazement crossed Pei Yanci’s eyes. He blinked, suppressing his agitated heart, and let his gaze drift elsewhere.

Tang Xizhui didn’t miss the amazement in his eyes and finally smiled.

“Is this lord beautiful?” He had finally regained his confidence.

Pei Yanci turned his gaze back at these words, his fingers unconsciously stroking the satin-soft, gleaming black hair, tucking the strands falling across his forehead behind his ear.

“Very beautiful.” So beautiful it was breathtaking, like a deity, yet capable of stirring the dirtiest, most vulgar desires from the depths of one’s heart.

Tang Xizhui tilted his head, his cheek rubbing against the hand by his ear.

How could he treat him so gently? It was so easy to become intoxicated and sink into it.

“Xiao Pei’er, give me a little interest payment first, won’t you?”

“Mm?”

Before Pei Yanci could react, a force pulled at his hand. When he came to his senses, he had already tumbled onto Tang Xizhui’s lap, his shoulder against the chair’s armrest, with an arm encircling both front and back of his waist, slowly tightening to imprison him.

This chair had been custom-made for Tang Xizhui’s frame. At first glance it seemed a bit large, but with him squeezed in as well, it became cramped and confined.

“You’re at it ag—mmph…”

The rest of his words were blocked by the lips pressing against his.

Tang Xizhui’s kiss was turbulent, passionate, and wet. Unlike his cool lips, his mouth was warm—the temperature wasn’t particularly high, but after experiencing the coldness of his lips, being suddenly licked by an invasive tongue made his scalp tingle with heat.

After the licking, his tongue began to conquer territory, invading lips, teeth, tongue, and breath that didn’t originally belong to him.

Until everything became tinged with Tang Xizhui’s unique taste.

“Xiao Yu… summon him for me…” This person had no martial ethics.

He was negotiating terms, but the other party moved first to demand interest.

“I’ll give you, I’ll summon him right away.” Tang Xizhui withdrew from his lips slightly, his voice ethereal and ghostly, then sealed his mouth again.

The hair crown binding Pei Yanci’s hair also fell to the ground. As soon as his black hair fell loose, a hand reached up from his nape, fingers spread like five small snakes covered in cold scales, threading through his hair along his scalp to firmly grasp the back of his head.

As if to punish him for daring to call out someone else’s name at this moment, Tang Xizhui’s kiss became fierce and vicious, as though he wanted to use his tongue to hook out that disobedient soul from his mouth, leaving only Pei Yanci’s body for him to play with and caress.

“Mm…” Pei Yanci’s lips became soft and moist, and were easily broken by sharp teeth.

A barely perceptible scent of blood spread, and someone’s pupils slowly turned a rich, deep purple.

He became even more excited.

“Slap!” Without hesitation, he slapped that soul-stealing face.

Unfortunately, his muscles were already slack and his bones soft. The slap fell lightly on Tang Xizhui’s face, carrying no trace of intimidation — instead, it seemed almost like a flirtatious gesture. He himself was forced backward, his back drawn tight like a fully stretched bow.

“Slap!” This time Pei Yanci gathered his strength and struck hard at his face.

Several unnatural red marks quickly appeared on Tang Xizhui’s pale face, instead creating a kind of abused beauty.

The burning pain brought some clarity to his reason. He released those lips, withdrew some distance, his dark gaze still burning as it fixed on Pei Yanci’s lips.

Those lips were somewhat swollen, the center of the lower lip broken, like a pomegranate forced to ripen prematurely—its hard shell pried open, revealing the plump, juicy dark red pomegranate seeds within.

He reverently took a light peck at that broken spot before reluctantly releasing him.

Pei Yanci’s nape rested on the armrest, head tilted back as he gasped for breath, his eyes wet and red, his gaze somewhat unfocused.

He raised his hand to slap Tang Xizhui’s face again.

“Someone come.” He cushioned the back of Pei Yanci’s neck with his hand to prevent it from being bruised against the armrest, while his other hand’s fingertip lifted the disheveled, damp strands by his cheek, suddenly understanding.

This kind of disheveled beauty made his heart surge with passion.

Of course, it was only allowed to appear beneath him.

Outside the courtyard gate, Huo Cun’s respectful response rang out.

“Summon Xiao Yu.” At the end, worried that someone might think he was playing tricks, he emphasized, “Now.”

“Yes.”

Inside and outside the courtyard returned to quiet.

Pei Yanci’s whole body felt both restless from unsatisfied desire and languidly empty. He pushed at the person pressed against his chest, his voice hoarse. “How long until he arrives?”

“Probably less than the time it takes to burn a stick of incense.” Tang Xizhui smiled. “He lives in the residence.”

“Let me wash my face. You can help me arrange my hair.”

“Alright.” Tang Xizhui straightened up, supporting him as he stood. Only after the person had turned and gone into the room did he stand up and follow.

On the inner side of the sandalwood chair, a complete human hand bone was wedged palely in the seam between the chair back’s joints. Fine threads could be seen connecting the joints between bones, along with excess thread—it was still a half-finished product.

****

Pei Yanci hastily washed his face. The cold water’s stimulation reduced some of the burning sensation where his lip was broken, but both lips had been ground quite thoroughly, and no matter what, they seemed bewitchingly and abnormally red.

Aside from being a bit red, everything else was fine.

He stopped worrying about it and turned to sit on a square stool, allowing Tang Xizhui to comb and bind his hair.

“This skill of mine was taught to me by the previous Imperial Chief Eunuch.”

“Li Daoyu?” Pei Yanci tilted his head slightly.

“Don’t move.” Tang Xizhui said softly, turning his head back.

The comb gently stroked across his scalp—the skill was indeed good.

Pei Yanci comfortably narrowed his eyes. Somehow, he recalled the gossip Wushu had mentioned earlier. Previously he hadn’t cared and didn’t like to gossip, but now he felt a slight irritation in his heart and said, “I heard Li Daoyu liked children. Among you all, he could cover the sky with one hand. You’re so good-looking—didn’t he have designs on you?”

Tang Xizhui said, “My adoptive father liked children under ten years old, especially those six or seven years old. The vast majority of inner servants enter the palace at that age. When I entered the palace I was already thirteen, considered old. He found me dirty, neither male nor female, full of cold energy, so instead I escaped that calamity without much effort.”

As he spoke, he bent down, his crimson lips—as if they’d finally consumed enough vital essence—moist and full, next to that jade-like delicate and smooth ear, deliberately thinning his voice, “What he most enjoyed was first dislocating those children’s jaws. That way those tender mouths wouldn’t bite recklessly out of ignorance, and afterward he could comfortably do his own business. If a child’s mouth got sore and inadvertently went against his wishes, he would give them a savage beating. Even while sleeping he remained quite alert—people who’ve committed too many sins, how could they sleep soundly?”

Pei Yanci frowned, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

Tang Xizhui observed his expression, his fingers threading through the hair, carefully savoring the sensation of cool strands sliding through his fingers, speaking in an unhurried manner.

“My adoptive father believed that children’s yang energy was most vigorous and pure, and that their mouths and tongues were warm—an area especially abundant in yang energy. If he frequently used their mouths to warm himself, perhaps he could become a man again.”

When people gained a certain amount of power, they would breed wild, delusional desires.

A normal man would never understand their obsession with this, like moths to a flame, as if possessing it would let them be reborn, pick up that dignity and backbone trampled into the mud, and regain the right to enjoy an ordinary person’s life.

But he thought—how could a child’s yang energy compare to the yang energy on the body of the Emperor, the ruler of all under heaven?

“Wait a minute–you guys didn’t have it all cut off?” Pei Yanci interrupted his contemplation, suddenly curious as he turned to look at him.

His gaze involuntarily slid toward Tang Xizhui’s groin.

Tang Xizhui instinctively clenched his legs tighter.