The Beautiful Pariah is Being Pestered Again [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 4

Somehow, those words struck a chord with the person inside. The hand jerked back, snatching the towel away with a sudden force.

The movement was so rapid it bordered on defensive, like a burst of ashamed anger. The punished “bride” clearly had no desire for outsiders to witness the evidence of his sins. He slammed the door shut, cutting off all prying eyes.

The scent of roses still lingered at the tip of Wang Mengtong’s nose as he turned around, dazed. He was met with several probing glares.

“What does it matter to you whether he gets hit or not?” Wu Xuan asked.

Ji Bufeng was slowly wiping his short blade, his emotionless eyes fixed on Wang Mengtong.

Wang Mengtong: “…”

He suddenly snapped back to his senses, realizing he had been lured into a lapse of judgment without even knowing it.

A heavy silence fell over the room. The oppressive weight wasn’t just coming from Ji Bufeng; it was the pervasive danger of a dungeon where death could strike at any moment. They had to remain vigilant at all times and do whatever it took to survive.

Developing feelings for an NPC was an exceptionally dangerous gamble.

Click.

The bathroom lock turned. The group stopped talking and gathered back near the sofa, putting on a front of idle relaxation. However, they were all internally on high alert.

The door opened.

Through the hazy, lingering steam, a figure emerged. He was still wearing a white nightgown, but he had changed into a fresh one the bloodstains on the hem were gone.

After the bath, his naturally pale skin appeared even more translucent and supple. He was likely a bit flushed from the heat, as a rosy hue pulsed beneath the surface of his skin. Noticing the group staring at him, the youth suddenly became flustered. He grabbed a fleece blanket from the sofa and clumsily wrapped himself up in it.

The men all froze for a second. They only just remembered that, according to the game’s setting, they were explicitly in an ambiguous, illicit relationship with him. Staring so intently was bound to give the wrong impression.

Several awkward coughs suddenly filled the room.

Once the gazes shifted away, Song Mo let out a sigh of relief. He only now realized he was sharing a room with several strangers. Normally it wouldn’t bother him, but these people were quite rude, constantly staring at him with strange expressions that made him feel very uncomfortable.

Song Mo asked, a bit puzzled, “What are you all looking at?”

A bizarre silence hung in the room for a few seconds. Eventually, Wu Xuan looked back and scanned the group.

The rest of the team were either red-faced or dodging eye contact. As for Ji Bufeng… he was acting so unnaturally serious that he looked more like he was preparing for a fistfight.

Wu Xuan thought for a moment and set down the plate of snacks. He stood up and walked over to Song Mo. Seeing that the youth didn’t pull away, he reached out and touched the damp hair. “Want me to help you dry it?”

At that exact moment, a row of large, blood-dripping words suddenly manifested on the previously blank wall:

Ring-a-ring o’ roses, a pocket full of posies.

The change was so abrupt and unexpected that Wu Xuan’s eyes widened, and he froze on the spot. The others saw it too, nearly crying out in shock. Song Mo followed their gaze but saw nothing on the wall, leaving him utterly confused.

The players exchanged looks; the air grew silently tense.

Wu Xuan’s fingers were still entwined in the youth’s damp strands. He had a theory. Looking around the room, he pondered for a moment before lowering his voice to speak to Song Mo.

“Let’s go into your room.”

“Huh?” Song Mo was bewildered. “I can dry it myself, there’s no need…”

Before he could finish, Wu Xuan had already pulled him into the bedroom and slammed the door shut with a loud thud.

In the cramped space, only the two of them remained. This was the first time Song Mo had observed him so closely. He noticed the man was a full head taller than him, with a lean, powerful build clad in black tactical gear and sharp, short hair. Somehow, he didn’t seem nearly as easygoing as his smiling face suggested.

Suddenly, like a man parched with thirst, Wu Xuan pinned him onto the bed. His hands moved onto Song Mo without hesitation. Even through the fabric, the scorching heat of his touch was unmistakable.

Song Mo’s muscles twitched, his instinct screaming at him to push the man away, but then he remembered what the System had said. His mission was to assist the players in completing theirs. Did that mean he shouldn’t resist?

With a hint of hesitation, Song Mo stopped moving. Right, he thought dizzily, if we’re being technical, we’re lovers. This kind of intimacy is normal?

His concept of “normal” was extremely vague. He simply grasped at a plausible-sounding reason and allowed the man to touch him.

No more blood-red words appeared on the wall. Wu Xuan frowned.

When the “Ring-a-ring o’ roses” appeared, he had been touching the NPC’s hair. He suspected the appearance of the clues was tied to physical contact with specific parts of the NPC’s body. Was he wrong? Or was this level of contact simply not enough?

The body beneath him was trembling.

Only then did Wu Xuan realize how inappropriate his actions were—pinning the youth completely beneath him. In the real world, this would be enough to get him hauled away in handcuffs. But… this was a game.

Wu Xuan had never been a man of high moral character. Seeing Song Mo biting his lip and enduring in silence actually piqued his interest. He let out a grin. “When you were having an affair with me, how did we usually do it?”

Faced with such a crude question, Song Mo showed no sign of shame or guilt. He simply tilted his head in confusion.

Wu Xuan sneered. “Quite the actor, aren’t you?”

Possessing a charm skill and seducing everyone in the house, yet now he wanted to play dumb? Since the dungeon had given him such an impure backstory, Wu Xuan didn’t mind getting a little dirtier. He reached out and grabbed the youth’s jaw. “Open up.”

Song Mo: “?”

Despite his confusion, he obediently parted his lips.

In the next instant, his eyes flew wide.

Unfamiliar lips pressed against his, invading, occupying, and plundering without a shred of politeness. Song Mo’s breathing became labored. He kicked at the sheets, trying to push back, but his head was held firmly by the back. He was forced to keep his mouth open, fully enduring the intensity of the kiss.

Wu Xuan had started this as a tease driven by lust, but gradually, the kiss deepened. Perhaps it was the youth’s struggling, which grew more frantic only to be swiftly suppressed or perhaps it was the warm, damp scent of roses radiating from deep within his skin. Or perhaps the body in his arms was simply too soft.

He wasn’t even sure what was happening, but the playful kiss changed its nature, turning into a predatory act of desire and destruction.

It wasn’t until a needle-like pain pricked his fingertips that he suddenly pulled away, looking for the source of the sting. On the youth’s pulsing collarbone, something was flickering in and out of sight.

Wu Xuan panted, focusing his gaze. He discovered a string of tattoos, shaped like hideous, dark chains, wrapped around the youth’s collarbone.

He quickly averted his eyes and sat up, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t expected to lose his composure like that. He felt a wave of annoyance, and his mouth was filled with the taste of Song Mo—sweet and suggestive. He felt increasingly restless. It took him quite a while to compose himself before looking back at the person on the bed.

Song Mo was still lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He was weak, his face flushed deep red, and his green eyes were brimming with tears. Seeing the man look over, he bit his crimson lip and asked softly, “Do we… need to continue?”

It looked as though if Wu Xuan just nodded, he would obediently cooperate.

Wu Xuan: “…”

Almost in a panic, he abruptly looked away. By now, Wu Xuan had to admit that while this NPC seemed useless, his charm skill was incredibly powerful. One lapse in concentration and you’d fall right into his trap. He had entered the room full of confidence, only to end up in total defeat. It was embarrassing.

He took a deep breath and decided not to do anything else out of line. The Captain was right caution was paramount.

Due to the kiss, the NPC on the bed was in a state of disarray. The hem of his nightgown had slid up to the tops of his thighs. Wu Xuan took one look and felt as if he’d been burned, quickly lowering his eyes.

“Is this the only kind of clothes you have?” His voice was hoarse, and his words made little sense. A plain, shapeless nightgown sounded like something scandalous coming from his mouth.

He was even losing his patience. Without waiting for Song Mo to answer, he reached out to grab the hem of the gown to pull it down. During the movement, his fingertips brushed against the youth’s skin.

The moment skin touched skin, blood-red words appeared again:

A-tishoo! A-tishoo! We all fall down.

Wu Xuan froze. Looking at the words on the wall, he felt a sense of disbelief. He slowly moved his gaze back to Song Mo.

So… it didn’t work through clothing?

Wu Xuan’s breathing quickened. His throat was bone-dry. With a trace of exasperated desperation, he slammed his eyes shut.

Who the hell designed this dungeon? Had they never been laid in their entire life?!

The psychological defenses he had raised so high lasted exactly one minute before collapsing into total ruin. Wu Xuan had no choice but to reach his hand beneath the nightgown.

Ten minutes later.

The bedroom door finally opened, and Wu Xuan stepped out. However, his movements were hurried. At first glance, it looked as though he were fleeing in a panic.

His teammates thought the “useless” NPC might have revealed some dangerous skill and were about to be surprised when Wu Xuan spoke.

“I found the clues.”

Everyone immediately shifted their attention. Wu Xuan walked quickly to the coffee table and, picking up a pen, wrote down everything he knew.

Ring-a-ring o’ roses, a pocket full of posies.

A-tishoo! A-tishoo! We all fall down.

You laugh and I laugh, you cry and I cry.

Drunken! Drunken!

Ring-a-ring o’ roses.

The group gathered around to read, but they were all left confused. “There doesn’t seem to be any logic. Are the sentences incomplete?”

“I don’t think so,” Wu Xuan paused, adding vaguely, “It’s very  complete.”

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