Chapter 27: Sinister

The grand hall, once filled with music and dance, had fallen utterly silent. The representatives from various sects, who had come to offer their blessings, now sat uneasily, lips pressed tightly together. Below the dais, Bei Gong Qiyi watched Qi Yong coldly, while the man at the seat of honor poured himself another cup of wine, offering it to Bei Gong Juechen’s lips. Bei Gong Juechen lowered his eyes to the cup, then parted his lips and slowly drank it all. Qi Yong reached out to wipe the wine from his mouth, smiling, “That’s better.”

Bei Gong Juechen’s brow furrowed slightly, a cold smile crossing his lips. “I underestimated you,” he remarked, his voice rough and low, his innate arrogance undiminished. Qi Yong’s hand slid to cover Juechen’s deep green eyes, pressing down gently as he leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Achen, don’t look at me with those eyes.” That gaze, proud as an emperor’s, made him want to crush it, to see that haughty face twisted in pain.

Bei Gong Juechen met his look, his expression unchanged. His internal energy was sealed, his body limp and powerless, unable to resist as Qi Yong held him. “What is it you want?” he asked. Qi Yong only smiled, lifting him in his arms and turning to Bei Gong Qiyi in the hall, announcing with a laugh, “It’s about time. I wish the Young Lord all the best.” With that, he strode out, still laughing, carrying Bei Gong Juechen away.

Watching his fading figure, Bei Gong Qiyi’s anger flared, surging so violently that it broke through his sealed energy. Blood spurted from his lips, startling Helian Wei, who had been watching intently. Helian moved to rush forward, but someone was quicker—Chu Muji stepped to Bei Gong Qiyi’s side, steadying him at the waist, concern in his voice. “How are you?”

Bei Gong Qiyi wiped the blood from his mouth, narrowed his eyes, and gazed at the brilliant night sky beyond the hall, illuminated by lanterns. “I’m fine,” he said coldly. Chu Muji let out a relieved breath and pressed on, “Qi Yong abducted Master Bei Gong because…” The chill around Bei Gong Qiyi deepened. Sensing his guess was correct, Chu Muji sighed quietly. “What will you do?”

Bei Gong Qiyi slowly withdrew his gaze, snorted, and turned to sweep his eyes over the assembled guests. A faint smile curled his lips—a smile that sent a chill straight to the brain. “Since you’ve all witnessed this event, Lishan Manor is not unreasonable.” From his sleeve, he produced a small white porcelain bottle, unadorned and pure. “This medicine will merely make you forget what happened tonight. It has no side effects.”

Though unwilling to be coerced, the guests recognized they had no choice in Lishan Manor. Bei Gong Qiyi had made it clear: either forget, or… die.

Seeing no objections, Bei Gong Qiyi smiled with satisfaction. “Guards,” he called. An array of sentinels filed in at once. “Young Master,” they chorused, their voices so powerful it sent shivers down the guests’ spines. Bei Gong Qiyi handed out several identical porcelain bottles and instructed in a low voice, “See that our guests take this, then escort them to rest.”

Only after these matters were settled did Bei Gong Qiyi finally breathe a long sigh of relief. The hall was empty now, save for him and Chu Muji. He grabbed a wine jug from the table, drained it in one go, then hurled it to the floor, shattering it. Staring at the shards, he spoke bitterly, “I should have hidden him away from the start, so no one would ever see him.”

Chu Muji suddenly felt his friend’s state of mind was dangerously wrong. “Bei Gong, you—” he began, but Bei Gong Qiyi cursed himself silently. When he turned back, the darkness in his eyes had vanished. Standing with his hands behind his back, he said coolly, “Before Qi Yong left, my brother made a gesture, telling me to stay calm. I believe he has a plan.”

Chu Muji nodded, offering a comforting pat on his shoulder. The two fell silent.

Qi Yong laid the man carefully on the bed and then shackled both of his hands with iron chains, finally smiling in satisfaction. “These chains are forged from pure steel. Even if your strength returns, you won’t break them.”

Bei Gong Juechen looked at the black chains around his wrists and sneered. “Do you intend to kill me to avenge Ao Haojun? I’d say you ought to thank me instead.” Qi Yong shook his head, lifting a lock of Juechen’s long hair and playing with it. “He was my master. I should avenge him, yes, but…” He yanked the hair hard, causing Juechen’s slanted brows to twitch. “Yet I have no wish to kill you.”

Bei Gong Juechen cast him an indifferent glance. Qi Yong released his hair, unfastened his hair crown, and let the black tresses spill out over the crimson silk. He gazed into those calm, unruffled eyes and smiled slightly, then began to remove Juechen’s elaborate robes, layer by layer. Juechen’s expression shifted, a mocking laugh on his lips. “So it’s my body you want after all.”

Qi Yong shook his head, then nodded. He stripped away the final layer, leaving the man completely naked, lying amidst the bright red silk, black hair spread out, skin smooth as jade. Even so, an aura of authority clung to him, enough to stir the heart and inspire fear.

Qi Yong’s hand glided over the flawless skin, eventually pinching and caressing a crimson bud on the left side of his chest, sighing, “Yes, I do desire your body. But I want more than that—I want your soul as well.”

Bei Gong Juechen looked at him with mocking disdain. “Delusional,” he spat. Qi Yong only laughed, his hands growing more intimate, sliding lower to grasp the man’s soft member. He leaned down to kiss Juechen’s cold, sharp features, whispering, “Aren’t I a fool for you?”

In that instant, Juechen’s brows drew together. Suddenly, he struck out with his palm, but Qi Yong seemed prepared; his abdomen drew in as he sprang back, avoiding the blow. The pearwood table at the center of the room shattered instantly, and the crimson bed curtains tore into ragged strips under the force of the attack. Yet the iron chains on Juechen’s wrists did not budge.

Lying naked on the bed, Juechen’s long hair barely concealed his loins. He turned his head, expressionless, to look at Qi Yong. “The poison was well-crafted,” he said flatly. “It took me quite some time to dispel it.”

Qi Yong sighed deeply, regret in his voice. “Faster than I anticipated. What a shame. With such a beautiful body, I can only look now, not touch…” Bei Gong Juechen grabbed a scarlet coverlet and draped it loosely over himself, a cold smile on his lips. “If you’re so eager to touch, why not wager your life for it?”

Qi Yong paced thoughtfully to the bedside. Bei Gong Juechen did not move, only narrowed his eyes at him. Qi Yong’s hand brushed the torn red curtain, and he laughed, “What a pity for this room I prepared. Still, to see you lying here makes all my efforts worthwhile.” He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with a sigh. “This surpasses even the beauty of a sleeping begonia in spring.”

Bei Gong Juechen shot him a chilling glance, then languidly rolled onto his side, the red coverlet draped only to his waist, revealing his strong, pale chest. In those emerald eyes flickered arrogance, his wrists still shackled, his expression a blend of wild pride and cold disdain.

Qi Yong’s breath caught, and his eyes narrowed slowly.