The Beautiful Pariah Thought He Could Be Loved - Chapter 37

Chapter 37: The Snow-White Skin Exposed by Falling Black Hair

The cold, thin moonlight clearly illuminated the expression on Xin Qishu’s face. His eyes had reverted to red, filled with confusion and despair.

He was annoyed with himself, and he was afraid of himself.

The moment He Lüqing reached this conclusion, he felt a sudden urge to cough up blood. It was as if an unstoppable arrow had flown from the horizon and buried itself deep in his heart. He had a surge of emotions to give, but those emotions could not pour into the narrow neck of Xin Qishu’s inner bottle.

“You…” With a heavy chest, He Lüqing took a step forward. Impulsive words were on the tip of his tongue; he wanted to grab Xin Qishu’s wrist and demand to know why he looked like that.

Why did he have to be this way?

Lüqing’s eyes widened, his pale-green irises looking as though they might roll right out of his head. He had grown thin these past few days—even thinner than when they were in the Demon Abyss. He looked terrifying now, a grim preview of what he might look like in old age.

Xin Qishu looked at him resentfully. “Why are you making that face again?” he muttered. “It’s pure mental pollution…”

Clusters of shadows from his lashes fell across his porcelain-white eyelids. As the words left his mouth, he shoved He Lüqing’s chest hard. The carefully selected bouquet slipped from the man’s hands and hit the ground with a heavy thud.

A few bright red petals landed on their boots. Xin Qishu rubbed his slender neck; he hadn’t controlled his strength well and had left several red marks on his own snowy skin. Without stopping, he turned toward the house. “I’m tired. Go away.”

Every word he said reached He Lüqing’s ears clearly, including the “mental pollution” part. He Lüqing stood there with bloodshot eyes, watching Xin Qishu’s receding back. His shadow stretched long and slanted behind him.

At this moment, not a trace of He Lüqing’s usual cold, celestial grace remained. In the realm of love, who can truly remain unscathed? He couldn’t, and neither could Xin Qishu.

He Lüqing gave a twisted smile.

Suddenly, the air distorted. Visually, the straight lines of the house twisted into curves. A flicker of hesitation crossed He Lüqing’s eyes, but it lasted only an instant before being swallowed by obsession.

Xin Qishu’s footsteps faltered. It felt as if a giant hand had appeared in the sky, pressing down hard on his spine. A massive pressure filled the small courtyard.

It felt like a thousand pounds were pressing on his back; his legs shook uncontrollably. Xin Qishu was forced to arch his back as a sense of suffocation washed over him. After a moment of holding on, he finally broke and collapsed pathetically to his knees.

Thump—

The pressure remained. He reached out a thin hand to claw at the rough ground, pebbles digging into his palm. His chest heaved as he coughed up a mouthful of blood. The bright red liquid ran down his fair skin and splattered on the ground like a blooming flower of blood.

Xin Qishu spat out a curse.

He Lüqing, burning with rage, merely lessened the intensity of the pressure but did not withdraw it. With just a thought from He Lüqing, Xin Qishu could only kneel and prostrate. This was the reality between the strong and the weak.

Xin Qishu’s grip on the ground tightened, crushing stones in his palm. His beautiful face twisted in pain, but his eyes flashed with unwilling light, revealing a sliver of upward ambition.

Footsteps approached. He Lüqing walked forward and circled around to stand in front of him. Those boots appeared before his eyes—a scene so familiar it stung.

In a daze, Xin Qishu felt as if he had never actually left that foul-smelling gutter. Everything that had happened before was a hallucination. Now, his tribulation was only just beginning.

“Where did you go today?” Lüqing’s voice came from above, cold as ice.

He withdrew part of the pressure, allowing Xin Qishu to raise his head or even sit up. But Xin Qishu didn’t move; he maintained his posture, etching the humiliation of this moment deep into his memory.

“Have you fallen for Duan Shi?” When Xin Qishu didn’t answer, He Lüqing asked another question in an emotionless tone. He stared at Xin Qishu, thinking privately how familiar this sentence sounded. A hundred years ago, he had asked Yang Li a similar question and received an affirmative answer. What about now? What kind of answer would he get?

Lüqing’s state was strange; it was as if a layer of iron plating separated his emotions from a raging fire. His outward demeanor was frigid.

If he really loves him, I’ll just kill him. If I kill them all, it will be fine.

This thought suddenly surfaced in his mind and carved itself deep, refusing to vanish. His hands at his sides trembled. He still had a conscience. How can I kill? Lüqing looked pained. I can’t kill anyone.

“…Cough,” Xin Qishu spat more blood, his face turning paler. Lüqing finally withdrew the pressure completely and silently knelt down to support him.

Xin Qishu kept his head down, submissively following his lead. Once he was half-seated by the man’s strength, he tilted his head back. His hair slid back to reveal a smile that was beautiful to the extreme. Blood splattered his cheeks like red plum blossoms. In his blood-red eyes, malice flickered. He whispered: “That’s right. I’ve fallen for him!”

Lüqing’s hand froze. His pale-green eyes locked onto him.

Xin Qishu raised his voice slightly, tauntingly: “That’s right! I love him!”

Snap! Lüqing’s expression became terrifying. He used his strength to crush the bone in Xin Qishu’s shoulder. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Hahahaha…!” The pain in his right shoulder made Xin Qishu’s face turn even whiter, looking as though he might vanish at any second. He used every ounce of his strength to laugh toward the sky before shoving He Lüqing away again. “Get out! Get out! GET OUT!!!”

Because he had pushed away his only support, he fell to the ground again, his cheek smearing with dirt, laughing manically. The laughter grew louder and louder.

Some say a person’s tribulations in life are fixed and unavoidable. The same trial will reappear repeatedly until it is resolved. Xin Qishu realized it now: his tribulation was “Emotion.”

Family, friendship, love… these essential human emotions were his ruin.

“Hahahaha!”

“What are you laughing at?!” He Lüqing broke down. He crawled forward and used his lips to block that mouth. The laughter died as intended, but in Xin Qishu’s crystal-red eyes, there was still a cold, mocking mirth.

Like a vengeful ghost. Lüqing shuddered deeply. Even when he faced the Demon King, he had never felt this way.

…

The next day, there was one less person on the clouds at the competition grounds.

“Disciple, where is Elder He?” Mistress Ye asked. Only Yang Li was present on He Lüqing’s cloud.

Yang Li kept his head down, wiping his sword, the hilt tassel swaying. He muttered: “Master has business today. Please rest assured, Mistress; Master is still paying attention to the events here.”

Hearing this, the Mistress sat back, relieved. It was just a small match; it didn’t matter if He Lüqing came or not, as long as no accidents occurred on her watch.

In the courtyard, the sun blazed. Inside the small room, however, it was pitch black, as if in an abyss. The room was silent, permeating with a faint scent of blood. Two people were squeezed onto a narrow single bed.

They were huddled together, the larger man lying underneath. The slender youth beside him had his eyes closed, his head held in place by a large hand, forced to rest against the man’s chest. His smooth, soft black hair was scattered across the man’s body.

As the black hair slid down, it revealed a section of snowy-white nape with a bite mark on it. A few drops of dark red blood had seeped out—the source of the room’s faint metallic scent.

One of the youth’s snowy wrists was wrapped in something: a golden chain. The other end of the chain was gripped tightly in the man’s hand. He held the chain as if he were holding the youth’s fragile neck. The boy had become his possession.

In the darkness, He Lüqing was not asleep. His eyes were exceptionally bright. He took out a pill, placed it between his lips, then leaned over to kiss Xin Qishu.

Xin Qishu was awake. He simply hadn’t spoken or opened his eyes since waking up. It was similar to his previous state of sensory closure, but this time He Lüqing wasn’t panicked. He was terrifyingly calm.

When Xin Qishu didn’t reciprocate, He Lüqing used a spell to pry his lips open, engaging in an erotic kiss to force him to swallow the pill. This was a pill he had bought for Xin Qishu when he went to fetch medicine for Dan Yu—it would heal his injuries.

After the impulse passed, the two entered a brief period of calm. He Lüqing’s tone was chilly. “What do you like about Duan Shi? Is he blind?”

“Your eyes aren’t exactly normal either.” The mask of friendly pretense between them shattered again.

Xin Qishu retorted ruthlessly, his tone contemptuous. He had never spoken like this in the first half of his life, but everything had changed now; he had jumped out of his old frame. “You are a human, yet your eyes are green. You’re a freak.”

He Lüqing was in a foul mood. “Hmph… I don’t have to change my eye color when I go out.” Unlike Xin Qishu, who had to turn his eyes brown to leave the house.

Xin Qishu gave a short, cold laugh.

The golden chain on his wrist was no ordinary tool. Not only could it suppress the demonic qi in his body, but it could also bind his soul. Xin Qishu was being suppressed so heavily he felt his life force slowly draining away… yet he couldn’t break free. This was why he was so calm after waking up. He no longer had the strength to make a scene.

A rustling sound came from beside him. Xin Qishu was laid back onto the soft bedding as He Lüqing sat up.

“Judging by the time, today’s matches are over. Get up.” Lüqing gave him no choice, pulling him up with one hand. Xin Qishu hated being handled this way and glared at him coldly.

“I need to go see the Mistress of Han Shuang Villa. I must provide a reason for my absence.”

Xin Qishu raised an eyebrow. His skin was so white it was nearly transparent, and his thick dark lashes cast deep shadows. He said dissatisfactorily, “What does that have to do with me?”

“How is it not? Was my absence not because of you?” Lüqing’s expression was gloomy. “Hurry up.”

Xin Qishu wanted to speak more, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he found his body standing up uncontrollably, following He Lüqing outside. Lüqing placed a hand on his waist. Xin Qishu’s face was grim; he found that he couldn’t even open his mouth to speak anymore. Only his eyes could move, but unfortunately, a gaze cannot hurt.

Lüqing pulled him close and took a step. The scenery shifted instantly—leaves vanished and trees disappeared. When their feet touched the ground, they were outside the Mistress’s residence.

Lüqing had used the “Shrinking Earth” technique.

The young servant waiting at the door was slightly surprised but quickly regained his composure to report their arrival. He asked the two to wait in the hall. Soon, Mistress Ye arrived. Up close, her exhaustion was even more apparent. She nodded politely to them.

Once she was seated, He Lüqing spoke first. “I am truly sorry about today. My Daoist partner suddenly felt unwell, and there was no time to inform you.”

The “Daoist partner” he spoke of was clearly the girl beside him. The girl was beautiful, with an extraordinary aura, though her face was pale and her expression held a hint of defiance.

Mistress Ye said nothing. He Lüqing was no ordinary person; no matter how urgent the situation, how could he not have time to send a voice transmission?

Lüqing didn’t bother offering further excuses. “Her body hasn’t recovered yet and requires care. For the next few matches, I intend to have her sit by my side.”

This was a minor matter; He Lüqing had no real need to report it to the Mistress. He wasn’t asking for her permission. He was simply using her mouth to ensure that more people in this world knew about their relationship.

He believed the Mistress would not refuse.