After the Pretend Aloof Master Overturned His Cart - Chapter 2

Having no way to make his tongue bloom lotuses, Jiang Zhou turned his head away with a cold expression, preparing to do what needed to be done just like before, and wait for Ji Yunlang to make a fuss.

In any case, he would coax himself; this kid never suffered a loss.

However, just as Jiang Zhou turned his head and unintentionally cast his eyes down, he caught sight of his empty wrist.

A strange look flashed across the depths of his eyes, and he instantly reversed his strategy, wrapping his arms around the back of Ji Yunlang’s neck in a posture of embracing him.

No wonder he was neither hungry nor unable to hold his breath; the spirit-locking chain on his hand had fallen off.

Holding Ji Yunlang tightly, he buried his head against his shoulder. After brewing his words for a bit, it seemed he could speak. Treasuring his words like gold, he uttered: “Cold.”

Ji Yunlang lowered his eyes, his gaze sweeping over Jiang Zhou’s dripping skin, which was naked. Sitting on the shore soaked and catching the wind, it would be strange if he weren’t cold.

“What are you telling me for if you’re cold? Do you want me to feel bad for you?”

“Mm.”

Ji Yunlang let out a cold sneer. Merely holding him wasn’t enough, so he hoisted him upward a bit, letting both of Jiang Zhou’s legs wrap around his waist.

“Master hasn’t called me for a long time. Call me once more.”

Jiang Zhou very obligingly called him once in his mind.

As expected, nothing happened. Ji Yunlang carried him directly out of the water, picked up the fox fur cloak from the side to wrap around him, and said as he walked out: “Winter has arrived. Remember to drape a cloak over yourself when going out. If you catch a cold and catch a fever, you will go warm the blankets for me every day; I won’t feed you medicine.”

Jiang Zhou ignored him, thinking to himself: You said the exact same thing last year.

Both of their bodies and hair were wet. Ji Yunlang was originally carrying him, but halfway through, he complained that the fox fur absorbed too much water and that having it stick to his body wet and hot was uncomfortable. He set Jiang Zhou down, letting him step barefoot in the snow, and led him forward.

Jiang Zhou walked slowly by his side. Thanks to that chain on his wrist falling off, he was no longer afraid of the cold, and only a slight chill came from the soles of his feet.

Otherwise, he would either have to endure it right now, or could only shamelessly hang onto Ji Yunlang’s body, first being mocked by him, then being disliked, and then being asked: It’s only two steps of a path yet you insist on being carried, what does Master take himself for?

Over these years, his thick skin had already been ground into eighteen layers under his disciple’s cultivation. The moment Ji Yunlang made a single move, he knew how the next twenty moves should be arranged.

He observed the ground the whole way. Just as they were about to enter Ji Yunlang’s room, he paused, seeing a tiny speck of light hidden in the snow by the doorway.

Ji Yunlang was just about to open the room door when Jiang Zhou suddenly grabbed the hair at the back of his head to make him look up, leaning down to kiss him.

Ji Yunlang was unhappy right now, but he never rejected this kind of proactive display of goodwill. He withdrew his hand that was opening the door, taking advantage of the momentum to hug Jiang Zhou’s waist and press him against the wall.

Jiang Zhou looped his arms around his neck, the spiritual light secretly gathering at his fingertips. Lifting a finger to hook, he silently held the broken silver chain from the snow into his palm, but accidentally let the slightly cool end touch the back of Ji Yunlang’s neck.

Sensing something, Ji Yunlang stopped the kiss.

Jiang Zhou pulled his head away, leaning his head back against the wall. His thin lips were kissed until they were moist, and his eyes were also shrouded in mist, looking at him while lightly panting.

Just as Ji Yunlang couldn’t resist wanting to lean closer again, a sound suddenly came from above their heads. In the next instant, the accumulated snow on the edge of the eaves fell all over his head with a splash.

Jiang Zhou took the opportunity to hang the broken silver chain back onto his wrist, using spiritual energy to repair it. Acting as if nothing had happened, he withdrew his hand, shaking off the snow caught on his wrist.

A portion of the snow slipped inside along his collar. Ji Yunlang shivered from the ice, yet he wasn’t angry. He patted it away casually, and thrust his hand—chilled by the crushed snow—into Jiang Zhou’s collar.

Jiang Zhou also shivered from the ice.

The snow was melted into water by body temperature, wet and clammy, following that unheatable hand to pinch around his chest haphazardly.

“You really have a black heart,” Ji Yunlang said. “First pretending to kiss me, then taking me unawares to smash me to death with snow.”

Jiang Zhou thought to himself: I swallowed quite a lot of your saliva, so that wasn’t a pretend kiss. Besides, this bit of snow can’t smash anyone to death.

Being unable to speak, he simply didn’t make a sound. In any case, Ji Yunlang didn’t want to argue with him about this either.

He untied the fox fur cloak on his own body and embraced his disciple, covering both of them inside together. As a result, a gap opened in the large cloak, cutting its cold-resisting function in half, allowing the cold wind to pour straight inside.

Hugging so intimately, this counted as coaxing him.

Ji Yunlang let him embrace him, groping all over his body to finish wiping off the water. Once he grew tired of touching, he withdrew his hands, finally willing to smile at him again, “Master’s body is so weak, drape your clothes well yourself. Don’t worry about me; I’m not afraid of the cold anyway.”

Hearing this, Jiang Zhou wasn’t polite either. He pushed him out of the fox fur cloak and wrapped himself tightly once more.

This counted as having coaxed him successfully.

Ji Yunlang picked him up, turned away from his own door, and walked toward Jiang Zhou’s room while saying, “I didn’t want to sleep with you today anyway; you kissed me in vain.”

He took Jiang Zhou’s proactive kiss as a transaction. Jiang Zhou gave him some benefits to let him release him simply because he didn’t want to sleep together with him.

Jiang Zhou didn’t make a sound, thinking to himself: Don’t speak of even a single kiss so pragmatically.

After entering the room, Ji Yunlang placed him onto the couch, tucked him in with the quilt, and stood by the side watching him for a good while.

Jiang Zhou closed his eyes to feign sleep.

Ji Yunlang’s gaze fell on his face. Just when Jiang Zhou thought he was going to pounce over in the next moment, he turned around and left.

Only when he closed the door did Jiang Zhou open his eyes, sitting up to pull off the spirit-locking chain to examine the part where it had broken.

On the day he brought him back, Ji Yunlang had put two chains on him.

One on his neck, and one on his left wrist.

The one on his neck suppressed seventy percent of his spiritual power, making him unable to lift a sword or use any magical artifacts.

The one on his wrist locked away thirty percent of his spiritual energy along with his “body”, including a series of abilities like inedia, holding breath, and rapid walking, leaving his body weak and powerless, making it convenient for Ji Yunlang to knead and roll him at all times.

Now that the one on his wrist had suddenly broken, Jiang Zhou finally realized that after five years, it was about time.

He tried to circulate his spiritual energy. His previously enhanced physical capabilities had recovered, and thirty percent of his spiritual energy flowed through his entire body, causing his spirit to feel slightly invigorated.

At this moment, the sound of stepping on snow came from outside the door; Ji Yunlang had gone and returned.

He put the chain back on and lay down on the bed again.

Ji Yunlang pushed the door open while carrying a food container. Glancing at the person with closed eyes on the couch, he set the food container on the table, walked to the side of the couch to nudge him, and said, “Get up and eat something.”

Jiang Zhou did not move, pretending to be asleep, but he could feel Ji Yunlang’s gaze falling on his face. After a moment, a hand wandered into the quilt, “Not opening your eyes, are you waiting for me to invite you?”

Jiang Zhou abruptly opened his eyes, expressionlessly flipped the quilt open, got off the couch, and walked to the side of the table.

Ji Yunlang smiled, following him over.

The porridge on the table was steaming with hot vapor. Jiang Zhou ate his food quietly, while Ji Yunlang sat to the side propping up his jaw to watch him, the corners of his lips hooked with a smile, his purple eyes filled with the satisfaction of having everything within his grasp.

Ji Yunlang entered the sect at the age of ten and left at seventeen. Now he was already twenty-four; he had spent the years when he was at his strongest and sturdiest entirely on him without sparing any effort.

Relying on the fact that only the two of them lived in this residence, whenever his interest was piqued, he would make a fuss with him at any time and any place.

For example, right now, Ji Yunlang didn’t seem satisfied with merely watching him. With a pull of his long arm, he gathered him onto his lap, his jaw resting against his shoulder, “The square stool is cold and hard; Master, change places to sit.”

Jiang Zhou hadn’t swallowed a mouthful of food and almost choked, barely managing to steady himself against his shoulder, thinking to himself that changing to another place would be even harder.

The room was warm. At this moment, he only wore a thin garment that couldn’t cover anything, let alone that it had slipped down half an inch from his shoulder due to Ji Yunlang’s series of movements, leaving his two long legs naked outside, appearing pale due to not seeing the light of day all year round.

Ji Yunlang wanted to grasp his wrist. As soon as Jiang Zhou set down his chopsticks, making a move to get up, that hand reversed its strategy and covered another area.

Jiang Zhou shuddered. Ji Yunlang had already kissed his shoulder, clamping him tight with one hand while the exhaled heat teased him, “Full?”

Jiang Zhou gave him a glance and didn’t make a sound, but the corners of his eyes were stained with a trace of red because of his movements, and his breathing grew a bit heavier.

Ji Yunlang wickedly curled his lips, his eyes watching his face without blinking a single time, then fell upon his lips that almost couldn’t resist opening, coaxing: “Don’t hold it in, Master. Cry out.”

Ji Yunlang’s hands were light. Jiang Zhou was left suspended by him, and that bit of desire was also provoked. Grasping his hand, his arm draped over his shoulder for leverage, he turned his body to straddle his lap.

Ji Yunlang had a wound on his waist yet still made such a fuss, so it could only.

Ji Yunlang knew what he wanted to do. His arms tightened, encirling him to not let him move, “I’m still injured, what are you being wild for? I just want to hear you cry out, Master.”

Jiang Zhou once again wished he could make his tongue bloom lotuses.

He wanted to ask his disciple: If I’m not wild, how can I cry out? Do you want this Master to perform a solo comic monologue for you?

Jiang Zhou couldn’t cry out. He could only lean in his embrace, parting his lips under his quite high technique to let out extremely soft pants, while Ji Yunlang pressed his ear close to listen.

In the end, he must have panted until Ji Yunlang was satisfied. He raised his wet hand between the two of them, pinched Jiang Zhou’s face, wiping once to the left and rubbing once to the right, smearing it all on.

The moment Jiang Zhou furrowed his brows, Ji Yunlang released a bit of clean spiritual light from his hand again. While patting it onto his face, he muttered: “Made you feel good again, yet you can’t even say a single nice word. Eating and sleeping every day, lazy to death. I’m actually still raising you, how have I not finished you off yet, hm? Why aren’t you speaking? Are you a mute?”

Jiang Zhou: “…”

You’re sick.

Ji Yunlang dirtied his face, then wiped it clean for him, turning his chin over to kiss him. Jiang Zhou took advantage of the momentum to rest his hands on his shoulders, turning himself over.

In this way, he sat face-to-face on Ji Yunlang’s lap. Ji Yunlang stared at him with dissatisfaction, giving his waist a heavy pinch, “I already said I’m still injured, yet you are in such a hurry to seduce me. What if the wound splits open? Does seeing me bleed make you comfortable?”

Jiang Zhou didn’t answer, quietly looking at him.

Ji Yunlang hated it most when he ignored people. The more he ignored him, the more words Ji Yunlang had, scolding him from head to toe, then凑 over furiously to kiss him.

When kissing Ji Yunlang, Jiang Zhou was at his most relaxed. This was the only occasion when being together with him required no speaking.

His hand stroked the back of Ji Yunlang’s head, gently grasping his hair, and that broken silver chain on his wrist was revealed.

The spirit-locking chain was broken; he should leave too.

Jiang Zhou actually didn’t want to leave. He was a lazy person, only liking to nestle in a comfortable place to be a piece of trash.

This residence in the Immortal Continent was a tiny four-sided sky. He and Ji Yunlang had lived here for five years; if he stayed any longer, he would completely indulge in it and forget everything.

But recently, the time Ji Yunlang spent away from the residence was getting longer and longer, and the injuries he sustained when he returned were getting heavier and heavier. Jiang Zhou had a premonition long ago that his comfortable trash life wouldn’t last much longer.

He was about to leave.

Ji Yunlang would be angry to death.

The two were currently kissing, and the atmosphere could still be considered gentle and peaceful. Jiang Zhou’s hand slid along his neck, chest, and arrived at his side waist. Just as he was about to touch his wound, Ji Yunlang suddenly grabbed his hand, slightly moving his lips away, “Don’t move.”

Jiang Zhou lowered his eyes, staring at his newly changed clothes. Red clothes and gold thread; he didn’t even know what was embroidered on them.

Ji Yunlang seemed to have hundreds of duplicate pieces of clothing. Once one piece was destroyed, he would change, and then after changing, it was as if he hadn’t changed at all.

When did he start liking to wear red clothes? Jiang Zhou had thought about it for several years but never figured it out. Moving his hand that was grabbed by him, he said: “Wound, let me look.”

Ji Yunlang wouldn’t let him look, “Don’t touch.”

Jiang Zhou asked: “Does it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts.” Ji Yunlang narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Why do you have so many words today?”

Jiang Zhou ignored this question of his, his other hand persevering in feeling toward his waist.

Ji Yunlang became unhappy. He pushed him down from his lap, made him turn around, and delivered a heavy slap to his buttocks.

It hurt very much, and that “smack” sound was really too loud. Jiang Zhou was startled as a whole, abruptly turning his head to look at him.

Ji Yunlang had just raised his foot preparing to kick, but seeing him turn his head, he lowered his foot again, patted his clothes, and pointed at the bed to command: “Go sleep.”

Sleep it is. Jiang Zhou stuffed himself into the quilt, closing his eyes without moving.

Not until the door opened and closed again, indicating Ji Yunlang had gone out, did he raise his hand to rub his own buttocks that had been beaten until it hurt.

The burning sensation from when the palm struck down seemed to still remain on it. As Jiang Zhou rubbed his own buttocks, a thread of faint humiliation welled up in his heart.

They people of the Immortal Continent all paid attention to “respecting the master and honoring the way.” So why should he, a grand Master, be slapped on the buttocks by Ji Yunlang, a tiny disciple?

Was a Master’s buttocks not a buttocks? Was a Master’s dignity not a dignity?

According to his shallow understanding of some parts of the Immortal Continent, only children would be slapped on the buttocks as a punishment by angry adults when they made mistakes.

Of course, the situation of lovers slapping on the couch also existed, but that wouldn’t be called beating the buttocks; that was called flirtation. After beating, they would still hold each other to kiss, and then roll into a heap.

Right now, Jiang Zhou was burrowing in the quilt all by himself, cold and detached. Ji Yunlang hadn’t kissed him nor come to hold him; he clearly wasn’t flirting with him.

Jiang Zhou rarely suffered from insomnia. He felt that Ji Yunlang was annoying, and felt that Ji Yunlang was cold.

He was going to leave tomorrow, yet on his last night here, he surprisingly had to sleep all by himself.

It was all to blame on Ji Yunlang for getting injured precisely at this time. Over these years, the moment Ji Yunlang got injured, he would push him away, and his attitude toward him would also change drastically.

Only at times like this would Jiang Zhou feel that Ji Yunlang hated him.

However, he was powerless against this hatred. He could only lie in his own quilt with his eyes open, rubbing his buttocks once more.