Chapter 14

Shen Molan only thought of going to Feng Manor when he was truly desperate, but even then, he wasn’t entirely sure it would work.

It was his first time coming to Feng Manor.

When Feng Wuhen heard that he had arrived, he immediately came to the main hall, his face lit with excitement. For a brief moment, Shen Molan was stunned—he hadn’t seen such an expression on the young man’s face in a long time.

However, when he thought of Shaoqing, who was still unconscious, Shen Molan lowered his head and explained the purpose of his visit, earnestly and urgently asking Feng Wuhen if there was a way to save Shaoqing.

The young man, seeing how desperate Shen Molan was, paused in surprise, unsure of what to do. After hesitating for a long while, he finally said, “…Molan, calm down. There might be a way. My mother had many ancient texts that recorded remedies and…” Feng Wuhen didn’t seem to know how to continue. He lowered his gaze, staring at Shen Molan’s bloodshot eyes, clearly the result of many sleepless nights. He muttered something, his expression darkening.

Shen Molan sensed a glimmer of hope and said with relief, “Thank you. If you can save him, you can ask me for anything.”

“Anything?” Feng Wuhen smiled faintly, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Shen Molan didn’t notice this small detail. His mind and body were entirely consumed by concern for the unconscious Chen Shaoqing. Having not rested properly for a long time, his body was also on the brink of collapse. Upon hearing that Feng Wuhen was willing to help, it was as if a tightly stretched string within him suddenly loosened, leaving him on the verge of falling apart.

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Wldt Ewbld yaaydtle qsa bkx yde Ubld Fbysikdt vs alpv kd y twlpv assx. Gqvla scplahkdt Fbysikdt’p nsdekvksd yde zkpvldkdt vs Fbld Yszyd’p elpnakrvksd sq vbl puxrvsxp, vbl uswdt xyd qwaasole bkp caso kd vbswtbv, obknb kdlmrzknyczu xyel Fbld Yszyd qllz xsal yv lypl.

Gqvla y xsxldv sq pkzldnl, Wldt Ewbld pweeldzu vwadle bkp tygl vs Fbld Yszyd. “Yszyd, kq R olal kd vbl pyxl pkvwyvksd… oswze usw cl fwpv yp ydmkswp yde nsdnladle?”

Fbld Yszyd byed’v lmrlnvle pwnb y iwlpvksd yv vbyv xsxldv. Tl qasodle yde pyke, “Fvsr… Fvsr fsjkdt yaswde yv y vkxl zkjl vbkp.”

Wldt Ewbld blyae vbkp yde pkxrzu pxkzle qllczu.

Rd vbl qszzsokdt eyup, Fbld Yszyd eked’v pll Wldt Ewbld ytykd. Mbl plahydvp vsze bkx vbyv vbl uswdt xypvla bye zsnjle bkxplzq kd vbl pvweu, dltzlnvkdt qsse yde alpv. Fbld Yszyd talo kdnalypkdtzu ydmkswp, vbkdjkdt vbyv ds xyvvla obyv ayal valypwal Wldt Ewbld xktbv ypj qsa, bl oswze prlde vbl alpv sq bkp zkql plyanbkdt qsa kv kq dlnlppyau.

Ebld Wldt Ewbld qkdyzzu lxlatle, vblal oyp y pzktbv pldpl sq alzklq sd bkp qynl. Mbyv eyu, vbswtb bkp lulp olal czssepbsv, bkp prkakvp pllxle bktb, yde bl pldv psxlsdl vs kdhkvl Fbld Yszyd vs calyjqypv.

Ebld Fbld Yszyd ldvlale vbl assx, vbl vyczl oyp qkzzle okvb y eyggzkdt yaayu sq rypvaklp, y zwmwakswp pralye qsa fwpv vbl vos sq vblx.

“Gcswv Fbysikdt…” Fbld Yszyd cltyd, oydvkdt vs tlv pvayktbv vs vbl rskdv, cwv Wldt Ewbld tldvzu ralpple bkx kdvs y nbyka. “Yszyd, vau vblpl rsaj cyacliwl cwd yde pvknju aknl rypvau. Mblu’al qalpbzu xyel. R vbkdj usw’zz zkjl kv. Zsw byhld’v clld lyvkdt olzz vblpl rypv qlo eyup, byhl usw?”

Shen Molan frowned slightly, wanting to say something. Nevertheless, when he looked into those clear, amber eyes, his hands unconsciously picked up the chopsticks.

“…Delicious.” The bun was soft and fluffy, the meat flavorful, and the sticky rice pastry was perfectly balanced.

Feng Wuhen’s eyes curved as he smiled.

Shen Molan, too, had been through a lot recently, and before he knew it, he had eaten quite a bit. After feeling full, he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to ask about Shaoqing’s condition. “What about Shaoqing…?”

“I’ve found a solution.” Feng Wuhen’s smile faded.

Taking a deep breath, Feng Wuhen looked directly at Shen Molan. “Promise me one thing, and I will save Chen Shaoqing.”

Shen Molan immediately looked up, his dark eyes filled with joy. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

The young man paused, gazing into Shen Molan’s eyes. “Stay with me… until all the poison is cleared from Chen Shaoqing’s body.” Seeing the shock and disbelief spreading across Shen Molan’s face, followed by disgust, Feng Wuhen pretended not to notice. With a faint smile, he continued, “During that time, you won’t see Chen Shaoqing. But I promise I’ll cure him, and once that’s done, you’ll be free.”

Shen Molan could hardly believe this was the condition being offered. He froze, sinking into silence.

Feng Wuhen raised an eyebrow. “Unwilling? Then forget it. I won’t force you.”

Another long, tense silence followed.

“No, I agree.” Shen Molan’s gaze was cold and piercing as he stared at Feng Wuhen. “I didn’t expect the master of Feng Manor to value me so highly. How could I refuse?”

Feng Wuhen’s lips curled into a slight smile.

Shen Molan, almost in a fit of rage, wanted to leave, but Feng Wuhen’s soft voice stopped him. “Don’t forget, as my lover, you’ll have to share every meal with me.”

Shen Molan almost laughed bitterly. He had known since childhood that Feng Wuhen was possessive, but he hadn’t expected him to go this far — to use Chen Shaoqing’s life as leverage in such a degrading way.

But in the end, he said nothing and stormed off.

Though he had, in words, agreed to the deal.

Yet, in his actions, he was filled with rejection.

This was expected, wasn’t it? Feng Wuhen lowered his head, gazing at the table full of cold, leftover food, his expression dark and unreadable.

Since then, for Shen Molan, it had been a period of confusion, bewilderment, constraint… and debasement.

In the first few months after they became lovers,  Feng Wuhen took a great interest in their new relationship. He meticulously attended to every detail, ensuring Shen Molan’s comfort. Three meals a day; constant concern for his well-being. He hired tailors to make matching outfits hats, and even socks and shoes in complementary colors — intricately detailed down to the finest embroidery on their garments.

Shen Molan never refused — his thoughts entirely focused on saving Shaoqing’s life — despite his demeanor remaining cold and distant.

For a long time, Shen Molan had been used to acting chivalrously, saving the poor and the helpless. Even if the person gravely injured wasn’t Chen Shaoqing, as long as it happened before his eyes, he would still try his best to save them. He wasn’t some saint saving the world, however, he could be seen radiating cold on the outside but brimming with warmth on the inside. His dream of the martial world was to live by justice, and so, life was always precious to him.

He thought Feng Wuhen would want money, riches, or, like other people in the martial world, demand loyalty or favors—things he would gladly go through fire and water for.

He deeply hated that Feng Wuhen used Chen Shaoqing’s life to coerce him into this—into such a humiliating situation.

In name, he became Feng Wuhen’s lover, his companion. He came and went at the Feng Manor Master’s orders, and in this beautiful but enormous prison of the Feng Manor, he was almost constantly under surveillance. Feng Wuhen seemed constantly worried that Shen Molan would secretly meet with Chen Shaoqing, so he arranged for many shadow guards to surround his quarters. Even though Shen Molan excelled at qinggong, he had no chance to escape.

The only form of revenge Shen Molan could take was through his attitude and… in matters of the bedroom. Outwardly, he followed Feng Wuhen’s every command, but his rejection was obvious. He hardly ever let his gaze linger on the young man. He swore to himself that he would never again be moved by the young man’s occasional displays of vulnerability, grievance, or sorrow.

In the bedroom, he tried his best to toss Feng Wuhen, because during those moments, only the two of them were there—the shadow guards had long since withdrawn. He could recklessly take out years of pent-up desire on the young man’s pliant, jade-like body. Even though the young man was in pain, he would grit his teeth and endure. At those times, seeing his expression finally gave Shen Molan a fleeting sense of revenge and satisfaction. As time passed, whether it was because the young man was inherently lustful or for some other reason, his body started to respond with pleasure. That was when Shen Molan would become angry, feeling as if their intimacy had somehow become tainted. His face would darken, and at times, he would even curse the young man for being so lustful.

Nonetheless, Feng Wuhen didn’t seem to care. Seeing Shen Molan’s darkened face, he would deliberately tease him with playful words, making him even angrier.

Shen Molan didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was that, even if he hated to say it, for the first time in over 30 years, he had experienced an intense, almost addictive pleasure from Feng Wuhen.

In May, Shen Molan suddenly noticed that the number of shadow guards watching him had decreased, and at times, there were none at all. Feng Wuhen’s attitude toward him was also changing. What was once open teasing and a confident sense of entitlement now became somewhat evasive. Sometimes, Shen Molan caught glimpses of deep melancholy in his eyes before he could hide it, and it made Shen Molan even more irritable.

He refused to think about his changes—they had nothing to do with him. In Shen Molan’s eyes, everything the youth did now was just an act. He felt certain that if he allowed himself to soften, the young man would only double down on the humiliation and catch him completely off guard.