My scalp tingled, fearing that he would get angry and want to consume the wedding night with me again: “I’m used-used-used to it.”
As I said that, I immediately closed my eyes, but my stomach rumbled at this moment.
I forgot I haven’t had dinner yet.
A big cold hand covered my stomach: “Are you hungry again?”
I was carried to the sofa again, and Tunshe Nalin asked me, “Where can I get food at your home?”
I pointed in the direction of the kitchen, and when I saw him walk in, I realized that he probably didn’t know how to use the refrigerator and electrical appliances. As soon as I stood up, I heard the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen.
As soon as I entered the kitchen, I saw him holding a bottle, its body already cracked, with dark, greasy oil spilling everywhere. He stared at the ground, his lips tightly pressed, as if extremely angry.
“What-what’s wrong?”
“Is this… your old lover’s thing?”
I looked at the bottle mouth, it seemed to be the soy sauce that Ming Luo brought back from Thailand, so I nodded.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s cooked using corpse oil, if you didn’t have my bridal mark on your body, you’d probably have been bewitched by him, and turned into a ghostly bride already.” He tightened his fingers, and with a loud whoosh, the oil on the ground caught fire.
“Corpse… corpse oil?” Could it be the kind of corpse oil used for raising ghost children in Thailand? Whose corpse oil is it? It couldn’t be Ming Luo’s own, could it? My stomach churned, and I rushed to the bathroom, vomiting violently.
After brushing my teeth inside and out, I staggered back into the kitchen. Tunshe Nalin was frowning, looking at the leftover food in the fridge. Worried that he might destroy the fridge in a fit of anger, I quickly suppressed my disgust and tossed the leftover food, along with the plates Ming Luo had left, into the trash.
“You… take the trash out, I’ll handle it myself.” I weakly handed the trash bag to him.
Although I’m not very good at cooking, at least I’m better than Tunshe Nalin, who doesn’t eat human food. I took out a new pot, cracked an egg, and took out a pack of Shin Ramyeon to cook.
Tunshe Nalin returned after taking out the trash and stood next to me, watching.
After watching for a while, he hugged me and gently touched my stomach. “Here, is it really better?”
I nodded, still feeling a bit nauseous. After gagging a couple of times, I suddenly realized that the situation we were in resembled a scene from a late-night family drama, as a newlywed couple and the wife who had just found out she was pregnant.
My scalp tingled as I nodded, trying to pry his hand off, but I couldn’t move it. He then seized my chin and with his thumb, pried my mouth open. A faintly sweet and pungent taste spread on my tongue.
Realizing that this was his blood, I pressed my tongue against his fingers, but he lowered his head and kissed me, forcing me to swallow his blood. The remaining nausea was immediately suppressed. After he fed me his blood, he seemed to still be unsatisfied and was reluctant to move his lips and tongue away. When I heard the gurgling sound of boiling, I quickly pounded his chest and made an ‘umm, umm’ call, and then he let go of the back of my neck.
I didn’t have much appetite, but if I didn’t eat, my stomach would get worse, so I ate all the Shin Ramyun noodles in the pot, and my stomach felt better. While I was washing the dishes, he was still standing by and watching. A thought flashed through my mind. I hesitated for a moment but couldn’t help it and asked, “Tunshe Nalin, are you… hungry? What will you do if you’re hungry in this city? It’s not convenient to eat-eat people in the city, right? Otherwise, you should…”
“Eat you.”
My hands shook, and I almost dropped the pot. I didn’t dare to ask anymore.
After eating and washing, Tunshe Nalin dragged me to the bed and slept with me. I had been sleepless for half the night due to nervousness, but I still couldn’t resist the sleepiness and finally fell asleep in his arms.
Amidst the haze, the familiar ringtone of the phone drilled into my eardrum. I slowly opened my eyes and came face to face with a pair of blood-red pupils.
I suddenly came to my senses with a start in my heart.
—Everything that happened yesterday was not a dream, Tunshe Nalin really followed me to my house.
At this moment, he’s sleeping in my bed.
“You… are awake.” I said dryly.
“I don’t need sleep.”
So you are looking at me like this all night?
Thinking of this, I felt a chill in my heart. I sat up, and my waist was tightened, and I was pulled into his arms. I felt the cold and hard touch against my lower back, and my back immediately tensed up, and my whole body stiffened.
Damn! His midnight…
This is not a human thing, but it has all the physiological functions that a man should have.
“Tun, Tunshe Nalin, It’s so early in the morning, I’m not well yet…”
“Don’t move.” His hoarse and cold voice came into my ears. My ears felt numb, and I dared not move.
After hugging for a long time, he gradually calmed down.
When he carried me into the bathroom, I realized that, aside from my toothbrush, there were a number of strange items on the sink, a thin redwood rod with intricate carvings, with a tuft of hair at the tip, like horsehair, and beside it, a small jar containing white powder.
What are these?
I was puzzled, then saw Tunshe Nalin pick up the thin rod, dip it into the powder from the jar, and put it in his mouth. Only then did I realize, this is his toothbrush and… toothpaste powder ah!
Seeing my strange gaze, he frowned slightly: “What’s wrong? Do you think your husband doesn’t clean his teeth on weekdays? My schedule and habits are different from yours, but I am not someone who dislikes cleanliness.”
“Oh…” No wonder he always smells good. Even though he eats blood, there was never any bad smell in his mouth.
I hesitated for a moment, opened the mirror cabinet, took out a spare toothbrush, and handed it to him.
“Use… this one. It’s more convenient. It also comes with toothpaste. You can use it as you like.”
He didn’t take the toothbrush but grabbed my hand, carried me to the sink, and lowered his head to kiss me. I covered his lips with my hands: “Tunshe Nalin, I, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
After washing up, I tried to relieve myself, but he refused to go out and put his arm around my waist to make me pee.
I recalled what happened that night in Kashag town, and I knew he was reminiscing and wanted to replay it. How could I give in? After pushing and shoving, I still couldn’t get rid of his strength. I was held in his arms and made to pee. Then he pressed me on the sink and kissed and touched me again. He bullied me until I almost cried.
After that, he carried me to the dining room. I was stunned when I saw the pile of things on the dining table.
It was a stack of red pastries, delicately shaped like petals, looking just like the cakes made by Rosemary, the kind of royal pastries from ancient times. —Is this his breakfast prepared for me?
While I was stunned, he had already carried me to the chair beside the dining table and sat down.
“Try it.”
A piece of flower cake was brought to my lips. Sitting on his lap, I naturally didn’t dare to act out of line and obediently took a bite. He still silently watched me eat, and I couldn’t help but think back to the times when I ate breakfast in the mountains, foolishly thinking of sharing my food with him, I just realized how foolish I had been.
It’s not that it’s not to his taste; the food I eat doesn’t even belong on his menu.
“Does it taste good?”
I nodded. The pastry melted instantly on my tongue, filling my mouth with a fragrant taste, infused with the unique floral scent of the narcissus.
But where would he get the ingredients in my home? He didn’t even know how to order takeout. I remembered that when he revealed his true form, vines would sprout, blooming with narcissus. Could it be that he used something from his own body to make this?
If we round it off, doesn’t it mean that I am eating him?
I immediately got goosebumps all over my body, and I couldn’t help but choke and cough.
“I’ll go drink some water.”
Getting up from his arms, I reached for the kettle on the dining table, poured myself a glass of water, and drank it.
“This cake, doesn’t suit your taste.” He looked at me and said suddenly.
“Actually, it’s alright.”
I swallowed the water, and to my surprise, I even found myself savoring it, wanting another piece. But then I became worried that the pastry he gave me might be just like the corpse oil Ming Luo had fed me, and I wondered if there might be any consequences. Seeing my hesitation, he scratched my chin and said, “A few days ago, you ate Ming Luo’s corpse oil, but you were not bewitched by him, only because you drank my blood, and his corpse poison was suppressed by it. But to fully remove it, you need to consume more of my blood. Since you find it hard to swallow, I made it into pastries. If it’s tasty, eat more. Be good.”
“……” It was indeed his blood!
The bite of pastry got stuck in my throat as he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “If you don’t want to eat blood, that’s fine. There’s another way… that works just as well.”
“……” My mind buzzed, and I dared not say another word, burying my head and eating quickly.
I quickly finished all the pastries on the plate and took a big gulp of water. “I have finished-finished eating.”
“Good boy.” He wiped my lips, and his red pupils dimmed.
I pursed my lips and wanted to get up to clean up the dishes, but suddenly he carried me to the table and took off my pants.
I grabbed my pants waist and asked in panic, “What are you doing?”
“Check your wounds.”
“Not healed!” I was so scared that my tone of voice changed. Actually, it didn’t hurt anymore, but what if it was really healed? He was so anxious to check, I guess he couldn’t bear wanting me anymore after enduring until last night.
My legs were folded to my waist. He looked at me for a moment with an extremely deep look in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything and helped me put my pants back on.
Maybe I was not well yet. I got down from the table tremblingly. I heard the cell phone ringing again. Then I remembered that I had missed a call. I went back to the bedroom to get the cell phone. It was Cheng Wan calling.
Upon answering the phone, she fired off a barrage of questions: “What’s going on, Abmer? When did you get married to your new muse? How come I didn’t know about it? You quietly made a huge splash at the international art exhibition, and it blew up all over the trending news. Do you know that?”
I had a splitting headache and didn’t know how to respond, so I just ended the call. Another message popped up: “I have no objection to your marriage, as long as it doesn’t affect your painting.”
My heart skipped a beat, and as I looked up, I saw Tunshe Nalin walk in.
How could it not be affected? I didn’t want to cross the boundaries with my muse, but I’ve already crossed them, and it was forced upon me as well. The last time I mistakenly drew him in front of Ming Luo, I must have been cursed; it wasn’t from my own will. What should I do now? Where can I find a new muse?
“Who is talking to you?”
As soon as the cold fingers touched my cheek, I instinctively recoiled.
Tunshe Nalin picked up my phone, took a quick glance, and clearly understood the words on the screen. His gaze then turned back to me. Feeling irritated, I left him behind and entered the studio, locking the door behind me. I sat in front of the easel, grabbed the lighter and imported cigarettes on the table, lit one, and stared blankly at the nude portrait of Ming Luo on the opposite wall that I hadn’t brought myself to remove.
With a loud “bang,” I was startled, my hand trembled, and the cigarette fell. Turning around to look at the ground, I saw that it was the door handle that was broken.
Tunshe Nalin pushed the door open and looked in my direction. His gaze moved upward, and his expression suddenly darkened—clearly, he had seen Ming Luo’s portrait.
My heart skipped a beat as I saw him walk toward me with a dark expression. A bad premonition surged in me. I stood up from the chair, grabbing the palette knife on the nearby table and pointing it at him. “What do you want? I warn you, don’t—don’t come any closer…”
He stared at the palette knife in my hand, his face slightly tilting.
Click—the blade and handle separated with a snap.
