Sang Jue’s body was warmer than usual. Despite having washed, there was still a faint scent of alcohol.
Through the dim night, Huo Yanji glanced at the clock on the wall—1 AM.
Sang Jue had slept for five hours before waking. Theoretically, this kind of reaction would be more reasonable in the morning. But at eighteen, never having experienced this was very abnormal.
It wasn’t exactly late development—Sang Jue’s other physical characteristics were all normal.
Huo Yanji exhaled softly: “Sang Jue, I’ll find you some videos, go to the bathroom yourself.”
The little evil dragon refused decisively: “Don’t want to…”
“If you keep biting, it’ll break.”
“Then you…” Sang Jue remembered he was a little slave, mumbling with respectful address, “let me infect you…”
“What if I die?”
“Won’t happen.” The little evil dragon snorted quietly. He wasn’t one of those ugly contaminants—he had no contamination properties.
Although Sang Jue looked thin, when he stubbornly pressed down like this, pushing him away was somewhat difficult—his weight was quite heavy.
“Sang Jue, what do you want to do?”
“Don’t know…” Sang Jue’s alcohol hadn’t worn off, his thinking wasn’t very clear, but his language was direct: “I want to stick close to you.”
Huo Yanji looked down at his hair whorl: “Sang Jue, are you conscious?”
Sang Jue: “Conscious mm…”
Huo Yanji supported his waist: “You plan to stay like this until dawn?”
Sang Jue mumbled somewhat unhappily: “How do you relieve your dick?”
Huo Yanji: “…”
Obviously, Sang Jue had a deep memory of Ivan’s notebook found underground. He knew what he should do now, but didn’t know how to do it—after all, the home planet laboratory didn’t have such films for him to study.
Such vocabulary coming from his mouth didn’t feel crude, but rather carried an unconscious alluring quality.
“Let go.” Huo Yanji said hoarsely, “I’ll teach you.”
The little evil dragon wanted to be taught like this—he didn’t want to let go of Ji Ji’s Adam’s apple.
He wanted to keep biting it, feeling satisfied.
But it wasn’t enough satisfaction.
“Be good, let go so I can teach you.”
“…”
Sang Jue unhappily released his mouth, staring at Huo Yanji in the darkness.
Huo Yanji rubbed his numb throat and flipped the person onto the bed.
Just as he stepped into his slippers, a tail persistently followed, coiling around his forearm as if afraid he’d run away.
Huo Yanji paused: “I’m getting something.”
Sang Jue seemed to be judging the truth in his tone. After a long while, he said: “Don’t leave me alone here.”
“I won’t.”
“I don’t want to go to the bathroom.”
“Mm.”
Sang Jue didn’t know what Huo Yanji was going to get. He stared at himself directly, his head dizzy, logic not connecting—he was an evil dragon, so why didn’t he have barbs? Because he was in human form?
He poked at it.
So strange.
Huo Yanji returned quickly. He brought a black belt and said flatly: “Open your mouth.”
Sang Jue didn’t understand why he needed to open his mouth, but obediently complied.
Huo Yanji used the clean belt, still carrying a few water droplets, to gag Sang Jue’s teeth, binding it and tying it tight at the back of his head.
Any creature would find it difficult to maintain reason when overcome with lust, and when that happened, Sang Jue might not be able to control his strength if he bit someone again.
Then Huo Yanji put on gloves, leaned back on the bed, and pulled Sang Jue into his arms, his chest embracing the thin back.
“Didn’t you want to be taught?” Huo Yanji said quietly, “Move your tail away, don’t block it.”
“Mm…”
“Give me your hand.”
With his mouth gagged, Sang Jue could only make muffled sounds, unable to express clearly: “Ji Ji—”
“Don’t use your mouth.” Huo Yanji’s voice was deeper than usual, “Spread your legs… hold it.”
Sang Jue struggled: “Don’t want gloves—”
His tail burrowed into the glove, forcibly pulling off half of Huo Yanji’s glove.
Huo Yanji’s breathing grew heavier: “Sang Jue, don’t be willful.”
Unfortunately, Sang Jue wouldn’t listen.
The little evil dragon was determined to be willful. His tail tip hooked out the glove and flung it to the foot of the bed.
“…”
The entire process took place under the covers. Despite Huo Yanji being very careful, when teaching hand-to-hand, he inevitably touched the surrounding skin.
His other arm held Sang Jue’s occasionally twisting body steady, the face constantly nuzzling at his neck hollow, trying to bite his Adam’s apple.
Unfortunately, heads couldn’t turn 180 degrees, so he always fell just short.
The little evil dragon had quite a temper, his palm wrapped, extremely impatient, humming and whimpering.
Huo Yanji’s eyes darkened: “Move around any more and I’ll lock you in the bathroom.”
Sang Jue immediately behaved and quieted down.
But such simple motions obviously weren’t satisfying enough. Sang Jue asked unclearly: “Does your throat hurt…”
“You don’t need to use honorifics right now.”
“Mm.”
“Move your tail away.”
“Tail won’t listen…”
It had been going on for quite a while, both of them were sweating. This couldn’t continue. Huo Yanji’s eyes were stained with deep ink, his brow furrowed: “Sang Jue, I’m going to touch your tail. Nod if you agree.”
Sang Jue didn’t nod, but his tail very directly burrowed into the broad palm, extremely proactive.
The next second, his tail tip was pinched, warm fingertips gently grinding against it. Sang Jue’s whole body went numb, directly collapsing into the embrace behind him, his ears red enough to drip blood, but he didn’t say “don’t pinch” like before, instead staying obediently still. That calloused palm circled the tail, moving upward until it touched the tail base, kneading and grinding.
His pants had completely slipped to his knees, and no matter how careful they were, they would touch places they shouldn’t.
The pressure unconsciously increased. Sang Jue’s voice came through the leather belt, moaning and gasping, seeming to say it hurt, but his physical reactions suggested otherwise.
After a while, Sang Jue’s waist shuddered and it was over.
He turned around and buried himself in Huo Yanji’s arms, nuzzling and biting Huo Yanji’s neck through the belt: “Was I fast?”
“Not bad, very normal for the first time. Go wash up, Sang Jue.”
Huo Yanji untied the belt around Sang Jue’s mouth and carried him to the bathroom. He had Sang Jue lean against the wall and put the showerhead in his hands: “Can you wash yourself?”
Sang Jue nodded.
Meeting his gaze, he noticed Sang Jue’s face was a bit red from the belt, looking rather pitiful.
Huo Yanji subtly curved his lips: “If you bite people again in the future, you’ll sleep with the belt on.”
Sang Jue: “…”
Bad Ji Ji.
Huo Yanji turned and left, going to the living room to wash his hands. He tugged at his sweat-dampened sleepwear, poured a glass of cold water, and walked to the balcony to listen to the pattering rain.
Wet moisture hit his face. The city streets were empty, with only occasional patrol teams passing quickly by.
He drank water with an indifferent expression, somehow thinking of seven or eight years ago, when there was a woman who had liked Lin Shuyi for a long time. She was a mercenary who spent years in the wilderness, an ordinary person with a normal lifespan.
Dissatisfied with some policies, she wrote complaint letters to Lin Shuyi, who seriously replied. The two began corresponding, and this back-and-forth continued for three years.
In the peaceful era of the past, maintaining three years of this kind of proper epistolary relationship would have been difficult, let alone now.
Neither was frivolous. They exchanged one or two letters a month, the woman chatting about her experiences in the wilderness, Lin Shuyi sharing his daily life.
They had never even met—even if they encountered each other, she could recognize Lin Shuyi at a glance, but he couldn’t pick her out from a crowd.
He had the authority to investigate her identity but never did.
After three years, one day the woman sent her final letter, confessing her feelings.
The usually calm and gentle Lin Shuyi was silent for two days, then carefully replied with one sentence: “With my ideals unachieved, I dare not burden anyone with concern.”
The woman never sent another letter.
Later, Lin Shuyi saw the woman’s name on the monthly resident death list.
When she sent that letter, the woman was already infected.
It was later discovered that an infected person had infiltrated the city, infecting thirty-two people. That woman was one of the victims.
No one knew what she felt when sending that final letter.
But fortunately, she passed away before receiving Lin Shuyi’s reply.
Regret was common in the world, but fulfillment was rare.
Especially for this era, regret and incompleteness were the norm.
Someone once asked Lin Shuyi if he regretted it.
He said yes, he regretted starting that correspondence, making both of them die incomplete.
But in fact, when you realize something shouldn’t have begun, it’s often too late.
“Knock knock—”
Huo Yanji turned back and put on a coat before coming to the door.
The one knocking was Huo Jiangmin. Huo Yanji wasn’t surprised: “Does the General have business?”
Huo Jiangmin smiled: “Even if you don’t call me brother, at least call me by name? How long has it been since you called my name directly?”
Huo Yanji said coldly: “There are distinctions between superior and subordinate.”
Huo Jiangmin keenly heard some water sounds, then noticed Huo Yanji’s slightly sweat-dampened temple hair, raising an eyebrow: “Seems I came at a bad time.”
Huo Yanji’s expression remained flat as he turned to walk inside, pouring two glasses of water: “I heard the Governor is dead?”
“I won’t take off my shoes, I’ll be leaving soon.” Huo Jiangmin walked in, casually responding: “He died a bit too quickly.”
“How was it not quick enough?”
“Mm… directly pierced through the brain by tentacles, even saved the pain of waiting for infection and disorder.”
Huo Yanji looked down thoughtfully.
This definitely wasn’t Huo Jiangmin’s doing, and the Governor had been captured and released so many times over the years yet still lived, obviously fearing death, so suicide was impossible.
But under layers of soldier control, the Governor shouldn’t have had any chance to encounter danger other than Huo Jiangmin…
Not wanting to discuss the Governor further, Huo Jiangmin placed a green gem on the table: “We were too rushed when we met earlier. This is a meeting gift for Sang Jue—a top-grade green gem from the Abyss Mushroom Forest. Only found this one in three months.”
Previously, Sang Jue and Huo Jiangmin had obviously discussed more than just the Governor—he even knew Sang Jue liked gems.
“Sang Jue and I—”
Huo Yanji had barely gotten halfway through when Huo Jiangmin interrupted: “You don’t need to tell me what your relationship is now. What matters is you brought him home.”
“…”
Huo Jiangmin asked with interest: “Uncomfortable at night, isn’t it?”
Huo Yanji said flatly: “The General has time to concern himself with others’ private affairs.”
Huo Jiangmin clicked his tongue: “How boring.”
The living room fell quiet for a moment, only the faint sound of water from the bathroom remaining.
Huo Jiangmin slowly turned his glass, then after a while said: “I actually came to chat with you, but sitting here now, I don’t know what to say.”
Huo Yanji said: “You can speak directly about anything.”
“Over all these years, we’ve actually met face-to-face very few times. You’re constantly traveling around, I’m confined to the city. Everyone thinks we don’t get along, so even when we do meet, they nervously separate us.”
Huo Yanji took a sip of water, listening quietly.
“After so long, sometimes I almost think we really are enemies.” Huo Jiangmin shook his head with amusement, “So forget it. Even if we really had a heart-to-heart chat, we couldn’t tell which of each other’s words were true or false.”
Splitting two people’s relationship was really simple—just no communication for a long time, plus some gossip from people around them, and the relationship would gradually drift apart.
Once trust disappeared, rebuilding it was very difficult.
Huo Yanji took a sip of water: “I can distinguish.”
Huo Jiangmin smiled without speaking, glancing toward the bedroom: “Alright, your little treasure is about to come out. I’m leaving—remember to give him the gem.”
He put down his glass and walked to the door. Halfway through stepping out, he turned back: “If someday you catch evidence of me committing crimes, just kill me.”
Huo Yanji suddenly called out to him, saying calmly: “Huo Jiangmin, you can’t keep living in the past.”
Huo Jiangmin paused. Gripping the door handle without turning back: “You don’t understand… I can’t look forward.”
“Bang”—the heavy door shut out the pattering rain from the corridor, along with Huo Jiangmin’s retreating footsteps.
Sang Jue, who had finished washing long ago, now emerged from the bathroom, poking his head out from the bedroom doorway: “Can this green gem cover the sofa?”
Huo Yanji snapped back to attention, walking to sit on the sofa: “You wish.”
“…Hmph.”
Sang Jue scampered over but was stopped by Huo Yanji’s palm, who said flatly: “I haven’t showered, stay away from me. I’m covered in sweat.”
Sang Jue’s nose twitched: “Would you like to test your teaching results?”
Huo Yanji looked up at him: “…?”
Sang Jue said directly: “I can help you too.”
Huo Yanji: “…Now that you’re sober, go sleep. Friends don’t help each other mutually.”
“But you just helped me.”
“Just now I wasn’t your friend.”
“…Oh.”
Relationships could change?
Sang Jue stared at Huo Yanji in confusion: “Then who were you just now?”
Huo Yanji leaned back on the sofa, saying calmly: “Wasn’t I the little slave’s master?”
Sang Jue: “…”
He scooted to sit on one side of the sofa, hearing two beeps—Huo Yanji’s communicator was ringing.
Huo Yanji tossed the green gem to him and pressed answer: “—What is it?”
Sang Jue’s eyes lit up.
This green gem had very high purity, containing lots of material energy that Sang Jue needed.
Although the two sat with clear boundaries, the tail wasn’t the same species as Sang Jue.
While Huo Yanji was on the phone, it sneakily stretched over, placing the tail tip in Huo Yanji’s palm and poking at it.
The caller was Adjutant Zhang, his tone rarely serious: “Administrator Norman is dead.”
Huo Yanji unconsciously played with the tail tip in his palm, his eyes darkening.
**
