Seventy-one secured.

Overnight, nearly all the leaves on the towering tree outside the window had fallen. Beigong Qiyi lay flat on the bed, as if he could still smell the faint, cold fragrance lingering from the man. He slowly closed his eyes, and those dark green robes, those dark green eyes, etched themselves vividly and indelibly into his mind. He did not wish to forget, nor could he.

Beigong Qiyi reached across the bed, as he used to do when Beigong Juechen was there, but all he touched was invisible, intangible air. Suddenly, Beigong Qiyi opened his eyes.

The room was empty and quiet; only he lay on the bed.

Three bold, sweeping characters for "Dustless Residence" stood out before Beigong Juechen's eyes. Qi Yong stood behind him, smiling, "I built this garden especially for you." Beigong Juechen glanced at him indifferently, his face expressionless as he walked inside. Qi Yong lowered his head with a smile and followed closely.

Every scene and object in the Dustless Residence greatly resembled those of the Liyuan, but Beigong Juechen was unmoved. He walked straight to the more secluded of the two rooms in the courtyard. The door, slammed forcefully, nearly struck his nose. Qi Yong pursed his lips and pushed the door open, entering. Inside, the room was still sparse, only a cabinet, a table, and a large bed.

The bed curtains, brocade quilts, and double pillows were still bright red, as if for a wedding chamber, no different from the last time Beigong Juechen had been brought here by Qi Yong. Beigong Juechen’s thick brows knit together as he pointed at the items atop the bed, saying in a low voice, "Change these things."

Qi Yong bent over, gently stroking the embroidered mandarin duck pillows as if caressing a lover’s silken hair. "Such beautiful things, why change them?" Beigong Juechen snorted coldly, "There are countless beautiful things in this world, but not every one pleases the eye. As it happens, these are the ones I dislike."

Qi Yong straightened up; Beigong Juechen stood right beside him. With a sideways glance, he could see the man’s exposed neck, jade-like and marked with countless traces, stretching down into his collar. Qi Yong could well imagine the alluring yet hateful scenery hidden beneath the man’s clothes.

Qi Yong took a deep breath, straightening Beigong Juechen’s slightly disheveled long hair. The two were similar in height and stood close; with a lowered gaze, Qi Yong could see the small bite marks on the man’s well-shaped lips—marks clearly left by someone’s teeth.

Qi Yong’s hawk-like, sharp eyes narrowed; his hand holding Beigong Juechen’s hair unconsciously tightened. Yet in the next moment, he relaxed his grip. "Since you dislike them, I’ll have someone replace these things," he said softly, smoothing out the hair he had just rumpled, with a gentle laugh.

He pinched Beigong Juechen’s sharp jaw. The man’s expression was calm, his dark green eyes devoid of extraneous emotion. Qi Yong sighed, "I’ve always wanted to possess you, but not destroy you. Yet I never expected someone’s heart would be fiercer and more resolute than mine. I was only a step slower than him. Though your appearance matches the Beigong clan, the blood in your veins isn’t theirs. He’s but your younger brother in name; why would you let him off so easily?"

Qi Yong released him, stepping back slowly. "Juechen, Beigong Qiyi truly is the rightful heir of the Beigong family."

Beigong Juechen sneered, "Who says I’ll let him off easily? Everything I suffered that day, I’ll return a thousandfold. Even if he were truly my blood brother, kin by birth, it would be no different!"

Though it was winter, the flowers in the garden remained in full bloom.

In the teapot, apricot-colored tea leaves stood upright like silver needles, swirling and then gathering at the bottom of the cup. Ximo covered the tea and laughed softly, "You have him now?"

Qi Yong stood at the edge of the garden, pruning withered blossoms, smiling, "Naturally."

Pouring himself a cup of tea, Ximo blew on the steam and remarked, "You always tend this garden yourself?"

Snipping off a wilted flower, Qi Yong laughed quietly, "Not usually, but I’m in a good mood today and wanted to do it myself." Ximo sipped his tea, scoffing, "You’re in a good mood, but someone else is not."

Qi Yong set aside his shears and sat opposite Ximo, raising a brow, "Did Beigong Qiyi say anything?"

Ximo set down his cup, half-closing his eyes, "He was very calm, as if he’d long expected Beigong Juechen would leave. And..."

"And what?" Qi Yong asked while pouring tea. Ximo frowned, lowering his voice, "And it seems he already knew my identity, yet didn’t expose me, and kept me by his side all along." Qi Yong glanced at him, chuckling, "If he didn’t know who you were, he wouldn’t be Beigong Qiyi."

He drank his tea unhurriedly, then said coolly, "How many people in this world could make Beigong Juechen stumble? Beigong Qiyi not only managed it, but did so beautifully."

"If he already knew my identity, he must have known what I’d do. So why keep me around?" Ximo wondered. Qi Yong closed his eyes for a moment, his gaze deep as he looked at the distant room. After a long silence, he spoke gravely, "Perhaps he had plans all along. Perhaps we’ve made a mistake this time."

The rocking wooden chair creaked, "creak, creak."

The sunset’s afterglow cast a fiery orange light over the youth’s slender figure. Beigong Qiyi lay on the rocking chair, eyes closed; the room was dim, and he hadn’t lit any lamps.

The newly replaced wooden steps echoed with the softest footsteps—so light yet clear enough for the dozing youth to hear. Beigong Qiyi slowly opened his eyes; his jet-black gaze burned as if with fire.

A man in brown, fitted clothes strode over. Beigong Qiyi remained still in the rocking chair, head tilted as he watched the last rays of the sun fade, asking absently, "Has the Pavilion had any interesting commissions lately?"

Mu Min glanced at the youth’s beautifully curved yet somewhat desolate profile, frowning, "Is master in low spirits?"

Beigong Qiyi gently rocked the chair, withdrawing his gaze to his own toes. He smiled bitterly, "Even you can tell I’m in a bad mood. I truly am."

Mu Min pursed his lips, asking softly, "Is it about the Master of Beigong Manor?"

His slender, jade-like fingers gently stroked the crimson jade pendant at his waist. Beigong Qiyi sighed, "It’s only him."

In this world, there is only he who can move my heart so.

The wooden rocking chair swayed again, creaking, "creak, creak." The youth lying on it slowly closed his eyes, tightly gripping the crimson jade pendant in his hand, as if clutching the robes of the one he loves.

So tightly, as if he might shatter it.

Mu Min’s frown deepened. He looked at Beigong Qiyi, opened his mouth, hesitated, then said, "Master, I just heard some news."

Beigong Qiyi kept his eyes closed, asking calmly, "What news?"

"The Liu family, seeking revenge, somehow got word and found the Master of Beigong Manor..." Mu Min murmured. Beigong Qiyi abruptly opened his eyes, sitting upright. The rocking chair let out a loud "creak." "What’s his situation now?" No one knew better than he the state of Beigong Juechen’s body: his internal power sealed, and most crucially, the excesses of the previous night...

The man likely could barely walk!

The rocking chair stilled, and the room fell silent. Sensing the youth’s fury, Mu Min bowed his head even lower, "Master, the Master of Beigong Manor was rescued by Qi Yong."

A section of the rocking chair’s armrest snapped off and rolled to the floor. Beigong Qiyi narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "Qi Yong... it was him who found him first..."

For Qi Yong, Beigong Qiyi’s jealousy surpassed hatred. Qi Yong was the first to touch the man’s entire body. He was powerful enough to stand with Beigong Juechen as an equal.

In the martial world, mention of Beigong Juechen usually brought Qi Yong to mind first—not him, the young master of Liyuan, Beigong Juechen’s younger brother—Beigong Qiyi.

The youth lay back slowly into the rocking chair. The room was darker now, so dark one could barely see Beigong Qiyi’s face. Yet, somehow, Mu Min clearly saw the deep, true, even twisted love on the youth’s exquisite face—a love that pierced bone and gut.

Mu Min lowered his head as if startled. Beigong Qiyi gently stroked the broken spot on the rocking chair’s armrest; splinters pierced his fingers, beads of blood oozing out, but he paid them no mind. He closed his eyes again and laughed softly, "Pity him for his misfortune, anger him for his lack of resistance. Mu Min, since my dear master is so magnanimous and willing to help others, you go lend him a hand."

"Hmm?" Mu Min looked at the youth in confusion; the blood from his hand continued to drip as he idly flicked his fingers. Beigong Qiyi said in a low voice, "I let him leave the manor, but not to let others benefit."

He turned to face Mu Min, slowly opening his eyes, "Big brother wishes to lift the curse after all..."

Meeting those pitch-black phoenix eyes for a moment, Mu Min withdrew his gaze and nodded heavily, "Understood, master."

Beigong Qiyi turned away, closing his eyes and lying straight in the rocking chair, "If there’s nothing else, you may go." The rocking chair’s creaking resumed. Mu Min glanced at Beigong Qiyi and quietly withdrew.

The room was now completely dark. The youth lay with closed eyes, serene and composed, as if dreaming a beautiful dream.

In the darkness, a single candle was lit. The youth lay quietly in the rocking chair; the blood on his left hand had dried. The chair rocked gently. He opened his eyes, and a ring of crimson shimmered within.

He licked the dried blood from his fingers, curled his lips, and began to smile.

Big brother, when you return, both your body and your heart will be mine...

Author’s note: What wicked scheme is the little pervert plotting now~