The Cannon Fodder Also Has a Will to Survive [Rebirth] - Chapter 26

By the time An Jiu fully regained consciousness, it was already noon the following day.

Before him stood a man with a cold, stern expression, green hair, and azure eyes. Seeing An Jiu open his eyes, the man unceremoniously reached out and pinched An Jiu’s jaw, forcing his mouth open.

Confused and dazed, An Jiu let out a muffled, “Whu ar yoo?”

“Stick out your tongue,” the man commanded, ignoring him.

An Jiu stuck out a section of his tongue and immediately felt a throbbing pain at the tip and an aching soreness at the root. What happened to my tongue?

An Jiu’s memory was still stuck at the point where Han Zhong and the fox were fighting; he couldn’t remember anything that happened after. As his mind filled with a chaotic mess of self-made theories, his eyes began to wander. Only when he spotted Han Zhong standing not far away did his heart settle slightly.

An Jiu had “speaking eyes.” Just by looking at Han Zhong, he made it clear he was pleading for help an expression of instinctive reliance.

Han Zhong walked over and comfortingly touched the boy’s forehead. “How is he?”

The azure-eyed man withdrew his hand and pulled out a handkerchief from somewhere, meticulously wiping each finger as if he found touching An Jiu utterly repulsive. An Jiu didn’t take offense; instead, he studied the man with curiosity.

Han Zhong, however, looked displeased. He narrowed his eyes in a warning. “Xi Qingdu, drop the act.”

Xi Qingdu’s expression remained unchanged, indifferent to Han Zhong’s threat. “He swallowed a bit of my Dragon Breath. It just needs to be sucked back out.”

Han Zhong’s attention was instantly seized. “How?” he asked guardily.

Xi Qingdu studied Han Zhong’s expression for a beat before letting out a soft chuckle. “Naturally, it must be sucked back out the same way it was ‘poured’ in.”

“…”

Caught between the two powerful auras, An Jiu cautiously poked his head out. “What are you two talking about?”

Han Zhong was silent for a long moment before he couldn’t help but press, “With the mouth?”

Xi Qingdu countered nonchalantly, “How else?”

Han Zhong: “You?”

Xi Qingdu: “Yes, me.”

An Jiu scratched his head. “So, what exactly are you talking about?”

The atmosphere grew strangely tense. Han Zhong stared at Xi Qingdu for a long time, his attitude growing increasingly cold and rigid. “Then I won’t trouble the City Lord. I don’t believe that a single breath of Dragon Breath has no other solution in this world.”

With that, Han Zhong reached out a hand to An Jiu. “Let’s go.”

As An Jiu sat up, he kept stealing glances at the man called Xi Qingdu. He had just heard his Junior Uncle call this man “City Lord.” So, after trespassing in someone’s bedroom, they had finally summoned the master of the house.

As expected, Xi Qingdu watched them go and said ethereally, “Do you truly think my sleeping quarters are your back garden, to be entered and exited as you please?”

Han Zhong’s face darkened. Thinking that this string of disasters was his fault, An Jiu lowered his head guiltily and stuttered an apology.

Xi Qingdu let out a soft laugh, and as he looked at Han Zhong, his gaze carried a hint of inexplicable provocation. “Go then. On the day of the Demon-Spirit Festival, go to the Great Priest for the Blessed Nectar. It can dissolve the Dragon Breath.”

The moment those words were out, Han Zhong picked up An Jiu and left without another word. Xi Qingdu was a man who held grudges; since they had trespassed, he intended to leave the Dragon Breath in An Jiu’s body until the festival ended. It seemed his earlier comment about “only he could suck it out” was a deliberate tease, likely because he had noticed Han Zhong’s possessiveness.

Han Zhong had to accept it. However, he knew Xi Qingdu wouldn’t completely lose face for him, so he wasn’t too worried that the Dragon Breath would cause An Jiu actual suffering. More importantly, he couldn’t accept the idea of Xi Qingdu “sucking it out” the way he described.

Analyzing his own feelings, Han Zhong had to admit: he cared about An Jiu.

As they were about to exit the room, Xi Qingdu’s voice floated toward them from behind. “Perhaps in two days, you’ll come back to thank me?”

Han Zhong didn’t stop, pretending he hadn’t heard.

He brought An Jiu back to their original inn. On the walk back, Han Zhong had already begun planning how to “coax” no, persuade An Jiu into becoming his disciple.

Han Zhong wasn’t yet sure exactly what his feelings for An Jiu were, but seeing An Jiu made him feel good, and thinking about the boy’s tragic past gave him a dull, suffocating ache. Since he knew his feelings were special, the priority was to keep the boy by his side; whatever changes happened in the future would be dealt with then.

An Jiu held back until they reached the courtyard gate, where he grabbed Han Zhong’s sleeve. “Junior Uncle, what was that about? And what is this Dragon Breath business?”

Han Zhong looked down at him. Seeing the boy using both hands to cling to his single sleeve just as he had done before his possessiveness flared up again. He asked something else entirely: “Xiao Jiu, were you looking at Xi Qingdu the whole time?”

An Jiu recalled his actions. He had been staring at the City Lord. But he had only just woken up to find a stranger beside him; it was natural to focus on the person. Plus, after hearing their conversation, he was curious about the content.

Han Zhong asked again, “Is he good-looking?”

An Jiu answered bluntly, “He is.”

Cultivators went through a literal cleansing of their marrow and vessels by spiritual energy; they couldn’t be “ugly” if they tried. Natural-born Yao had a unique advantage in transformation; the higher the bloodline, the more magnificent the appearance. Even “average” ones were world-class beauties. Not to mention, a beauty with green hair and azure eyes was refreshingly elegant. An Jiu offered the sigh of a person with no worldliness.

Han Zhong stopped, turned around, and leaned down to bring his face close to An Jiu’s. “I’m not good-looking?”

A flash of gold flickered in his eyes, and a diamond-shaped scale appeared between his brows, looking like a black gemstone. Han Zhong was also extremely handsome, but in an exotic, predatory way that was entirely different from Xi Qingdu.

An Jiu dazed for a second before answering honestly, “Junior Uncle is also good-looking.”

Han Zhong straightened up, the corners of his mouth curling. A sound like a snake’s hiss echoed faintly in the air. He realized An Jiu was a “little visual-fetishist” he felt goodwill toward anyone who was handsome.

However, Han Zhong wasn’t entirely satisfied. This little bit of “sweetness” couldn’t fill the chasm of his possessiveness. “So, between me and that old dragon, who is more handsome?”

An Jiu began to nervously twist his fingers. Han Zhong was right; he was a bit of a face-connoisseur. Everyone loves beauty, after all. But for Han Zhong to force a comparison he truly couldn’t choose.

“Both, both are very handsome” An Jiu tried to brush it off.

Han Zhong pinched the flesh of An Jiu’s cheek and said resentfully, “Can’t you say something nice?”

An Jiu caught on immediately. So, he just wanted to hear something pleasant. “Junior Uncle is handsome! Junior Uncle is the most handsome in the whole world!”

Satisfied, Han Zhong released his cheek. “Baby, you have to remember: if you’re ever asked this again, you must know how to choose.”

An Jiu nodded in agreement, but his mind was elsewhere. He seemed easy to handle and was obedient to a fault, but if all these men were ever in one place, An Jiu would only pick the strongest one to be his backer. His current weakness was merely a result of reading the room.

Following that day, Han Zhong visited the Tu-Shan and Lan-Ze clans of the Fox Tribe but failed to find the red-haired fox who had just transformed. There was a junior in the Lan-Ze family who looked similar, but no matter how Han Zhong tested him, the little fox acted like a fool, he couldn’t transform and seemed to have no intelligence, a complete “waste” of a constitution, nothing like the youth with the breathtaking sword skills from that night.

Eventually, Han Zhong lost interest in the search, chalking it up to a lack of fate. Once the matter was shelved, he finally explained the events in Xi Qingdu’s quarters to An Jiu omitting the tragic memories, of course. Since An Jiu didn’t remember them, there was no need to reopen the wounds. Besides, if a person isn’t willing to talk about such things, they probably don’t want others to know. He didn’t want to burden An Jiu’s mind.

When An Jiu heard Han Zhong say he had licked the man’s entire face, his head felt like it was going to explode. “You mean, your face was covered in Dragon Breath, and I licked it all into my stomach?”

Han Zhong deliberately omitted the part where he was frozen in ice to make An Jiu think they had been in intimate, unshielded contact. He watched An Jiu’s face for any signs of repulsion; finding none, he felt relieved.

An Jiu truly didn’t catch Han Zhong’s drift. To him, it was an act of immense mercy that Han Zhong didn’t mind having his face covered in saliva. He couldn’t fathom that he was “taking advantage” of the man.

He pondered for a long time, catching only one point: “Then why am I the only one who needs to have the Dragon Breath sucked out? Did I really lick your face that clean?” An Jiu paused, then said with a mysterious sense of pride, “I’m actually quite amazing then.”

“Mhm. Very amazing,” Han Zhong laughed, his mood brightening.

An Jiu steered the topic back. “But what about you? Are you truly alright? Am I the only one with Dragon Breath in my body?”

“Yes, but don’t worry. It won’t be a big problem.” Han Zhong explained Xi Qingdu’s character. While he was petty, he was generous to his own kind, which was how he maintained his position as City Lord. The traps in his palace weren’t lethal; the Dragon Breath was likely just a way to immobilize intruders. The small amount An Jiu had inhaled likely wouldn’t even be enough to seal him. Even if it had side effects, they wouldn’t be severe.

An Jiu nodded, looking as if he trusted Han Zhong implicitly.

By nightfall, An Jiu discovered exactly what was “wrong” with the Dragon Breath lurking in his body.

In Demon-Spirit City, the temperature dropped sharply at night. Previously, An Jiu needed a small quilt to sleep, but tonight, his body was burning. He had kicked the quilt to the floor, and his loose sleeping clothes had bunched up, revealing his pale, shapely calves and a sliver of his narrow waist.

An Jiu climbed out of bed for the fourth time that night. He walked barefoot to the outer room, picked up the teapot, and chugged a stomach-full of cold tea. Even after the cold tea, he felt a searing heat in his chest and lungs. Aside from the heat, there was a craving he couldn’t name it, but he knew what it was.

His mind instinctively returned to the experience of that night the damp, sticky sensations, the soul-searing pleasure of friction. To be enveloped in that feeling again only by reaching that peak could the physical discomfort vanish and turn into bliss.

He had run out of water in his room. An Jiu touched his neck, his throat bobbing slightly. Not enough. I want something cooler.

An Jiu crept out of his room and squatted by the well in the courtyard. The well water was icy. He pulled up a bucket and stirred it with his hand; after an initial shiver, he soaked his entire hand in the bucket. An Jiu let out a long moan an instinctive, airy sound of comfort. His eyes crinkled, and an alluring pink flush crept over his face.

So comfortable.

But it still wasn’t enough! An Jiu simply sat on the ground, leaning his back against the cold stone of the well. His hands hurriedly untied the belt of his tunic. After baring his chest, he reached for his waistband.

Just as An Jiu was about to give his “little brother” some air, a long, slender, bony hand reached out from his side and pressed down on his hand. An Jiu looked up, his eyes swimming with blatant desire.

Han Zhong had heard the movement the moment An Jiu left his room. Initially, he hadn’t planned to investigate; An Jiu had his own life, and he didn’t need to be watched like a prisoner. But as time passed, Han Zhong felt something was wrong even a trip to the latrine shouldn’t take this long. And then, he heard the sounds An Jiu was making.

Arriving in the courtyard, Han Zhong saw the scene of An Jiu’s disheveled state and self-neglect. Before he could react, he had already seized An Jiu’s wrist.

An Jiu looked up at him, his lips slightly parted, his gaze both innocent and seductive. That vivid, lush face paired with such a look. Han Zhong felt that for anyone, it would be an irresistible temptation.

Han Zhong’s eyes darkened. He used his free hand to pinch An Jiu’s jaw, pressing his thumb against the boy’s lips. A swordsman’s hands were calloused from years of gripping a blade; when that rough texture pressed against the boy’s tender lips, both parties felt a momentary lapse of reason.

An Jiu’s gaze grew even more blurred. “Junior Uncle… so hot. I… I want a cold bath…”

Han Zhong snapped back to reality. He quickly pulled the boy’s clothes together and scooped him up. “No.” An Jiu had no spiritual power; a cold bath in this state wouldn’t quench the internal heat, it would only lead to a fever. And if An Jiu fell ill, they couldn’t even use standard cultivation pills—his body simply couldn’t handle the strain.

That damn Xi Qingdu. He was waiting for this.

In the middle of the night, Han Zhong carried An Jiu and broke into the City Lord’s manor once again. Xi Qingdu hadn’t even returned to his private space yet, making it hard not to suspect he had planned for this.

Han Zhong and Xi Qingdu sat opposite each other, neither speaking first. It was the same room, the same bed. An Jiu lay on the bed, watching the two men face off. I’m in so much pain, why are they just staring at each other in silence?

An Jiu wasn’t as patient as they were, but he didn’t dare speak up being a “coward” was his core trait, after all. He could only sprawl out on the bed like a “big” character (spread-eagle), occasionally flipping over like a pancake on a griddle. His constant rustling made it impossible for them to maintain the “deep” atmosphere.

At least, Han Zhong couldn’t. He sighed, compromising with Xi Qingdu. “What exactly does the City Lord want?”

A smile finally appeared on Xi Qingdu’s face. “What? Have I done something wrong?”

“The Dragon Breath, why does it have this effect?” Han Zhong’s tone carried a hint of rage.

Xi Qingdu’s attitude was excellent as he explained gently, “That’s just how dragons are. Don’t tell me your Serpent Tribe is any different. Besides, it’s just a minor physiological side effect. Aren’t you two Daoist Companions? Just couple and clear the heat. If three or four times doesn’t work, six or seven should do. You’re both cultivators; endurance isn’t an issue.”

An Jiu, listening from the side, was dumbfounded. He had thought the City Lord was a “High-Peak Flower” (aloof and pure), but he hadn’t expected every sentence out of his mouth to be about “coupling.” Cold and ascetic on the outside, yet so pornographic on the inside the contrast was too great.

One look at An Jiu’s stupid expression told Han Zhong that the boy hadn’t caught the important part. He had to cover the lie himself. “My companion’s body has an issue; we cannot share a bed.”

An Jiu’s Heavenly Spirit Root was the issue; any cultivator who coupled with him would be engaging in Dual Cultivation. If An Jiu’s meridians weren’t sealed by Si Xuanye, it would be fine it would just be a session of dual cultivation. But now, the spiritual energy from a partner wouldn’t be able to enter An Jiu’s meridians and would instead clash with Si Xuanye’s seal. An Jiu’s body was currently maintaining a delicate balance between the two forces; any more would tip the scales.

Naturally, he couldn’t explain this to Xi Qingdu.

“Cannot share a bed? Or are you incapable?” Xi Qingdu seemed genuinely curious about the reason. An Jiu, lacking self-awareness, also looked over as if expecting to hear some juicy gossip.

Han Zhong shot him a chilling look, saying nothing. An Jiu felt that gaze was inexplicably dangerous.

Seeing Han Zhong wasn’t cooperating, Xi Qingdu stopped his teasing. “Then we return to the previous method. I will suck the Dragon Breath out.” He wanted to see how Han Zhong’s possessiveness would handle the choice.

While Han Zhong considered, another wave of heat rose within An Jiu. He writhed restlessly, letting out a soft, animalistic whimper that was seductive without even trying.

Han Zhong rubbed his brow. “Go ahead. Get it out.”

Xi Qingdu laughed aloud. Seeing Han Zhong’s face grow darker, he reined it in slightly, though the smirk remained. “Then please wait outside, Great One. Lest the Dragon Breath accidentally wounds you when it comes out.”

“I am not afraid of a stray breath.” It wasn’t enough to threaten him.

Xi Qingdu’s expression didn’t change. “The energy can become chaotic and erratic; you don’t want it darting back into your darling’s body.”

Han Zhong didn’t believe a word of it. But he still turned and strode out. Arguing with Xi Qingdu was a waste of time, and An Jiu was suffering. More importantly, he didn’t really want to watch Xi Qingdu “suck the breath” out of An Jiu.

Once Han Zhong left, Xi Qingdu sat by the bed, watching An Jiu toss and turn with a smile. The fabric of his clothes was made of some unknown material cool, smooth, and refreshing. When An Jiu’s arm brushed against it, he felt a sense of comfort. He propped himself up, wanting to lean against Xi Qingdu.

Xi Qingdu remained unmoved, letting the boy climb onto him. An Jiu reached out and hugged Xi Qingdu’s neck, hanging off him but this man was so tall, even while sitting. An Jiu’s body was limp, and his arms had no strength; he couldn’t hold on.

An Jiu began to cry from the discomfort. He feared he would lose his sanity and make a fool of himself. As for “coupling,” he actually had no resistance to it; his “first time” had already been given away mysteriously, and the experience hadn’t been bad he couldn’t be expected to stay chaste for Si Xuanye, could he? That would be too self-deprecating.

An Jiu’s thoughts were relatively conservative. Cultivators lived long lives, and few stayed chaste for others. And the higher the cultivation, the harder it was to conceive; many high-level cultivators in noble clans had multiple wives and concubines, plus a group of “furnaces” (dual cultivation partners).

An Jiu felt his reason collapsing. Along with the fire in his lower abdomen came a ravenous appetite. He suppressed it with all his might, leaning his face against Xi Qingdu’s neck. He tilted his head, his hot, damp breath hitting the skin just below the man’s earlobe, turning the area crimson.

When An Jiu spoke, his words carried a suggestive dampness. “City Lord Xi… why haven’t you started… it hurts…”

Xi Qingdu’s azure eyes darkened into a deep emerald. He hadn’t intended to follow through, but now he felt the little guy was truly alluring. Perhaps, a taste wouldn’t be bad.

“Han Zhong and I are actually of the same generation,” he whispered. “We studied together. Even then, I knew he had a strong sense of boundaries. He doesn’t like others touching his things, and he doesn’t like using things others have used.”

“Mhm…” An Jiu had no strength left. He rested his head on Xi Qingdu’s shoulder and let out a lazy hum that sounded more like a seductive moan.

“And once Han Zhong considers something his property, he will never let anyone else touch it again.”

“I don’t understand. Can I bite you?” An Jiu looked at the blue veins in Xi Qingdu’s neck, licked his small canines, and felt ready to pounce.

Xi Qingdu laughed, and An Jiu felt the vibration in the man’s chest. “Try it then.”

The moment he finished, An Jiu eagerly took a bite and nearly chipped his tooth. He looked up at Xi Qingdu with teary eyes, only to find the man looking back with amused delight.

Xi Qingdu gently pulled An Jiu down and laid him on the bed. “I only intended to test Han Zhong’s possessiveness. I didn’t expect him to suppress his instincts and think of you.”

He paused, then continued, “Sucking out the Dragon Breath doesn’t have to be mouth-to-mouth. But now, I’ve changed my mind.”

Xi Qingdu leaned over, hovering almost entirely over An Jiu. Just as An Jiu had done, he brought his lips close to the boy’s face but while An Jiu’s actions were unconscious, Xi Qingdu’s were a deliberate lure. “There are ways to make you happy without coupling. Do you want to try?”

An Jiu’s gaze was unfocused; he seemed to have lost all reason. Xi Qingdu waited silently for his response.

After a long moment, a single, firm word left the boy’s lips: “No.”

Are you kidding? An Jiu thought. Could any ‘other method’ be faster than just taking the Dragon Breath out directly? I need to hurry up and get out of here so I can have a midnight snack!