The Loyal Dead Soldier Did Not Plan to Run with a Bun (Pregnant) - Chapter 5

Taking advantage of his anger and distraction, Wei Zheng moved like a phantom, first pinning down the dead soldier’s most threatening hands, then attempting to disable his internal energy.

Wei San was, of course, not a fish waiting to be butchered; even without his hands, his legs remained lethal weapons.

The two locked wrists, their legs tangling in dozens of exchanges, until ultimately, Wei San, who was not skilled in close-quarters combat, fell behind.

Wei Zheng pressed his elbow against Wei San’s butterfly blades, applying a sudden force that pinned him against the wall. The gauze curtain behind him was caught in the crossfire; with a rip, he tore off a piece, twisted it into a rope, and bound Wei San’s hands behind his back.

“It really is only this way that you’re obedient.”

He tied a knot, but not feeling secure enough with just his hands bound, he reached out and struck Wei San’s acupoints, temporarily sealing his internal energy. Only after confirming that the little dead soldier was completely unable to resist did he rise with satisfaction, casually slinging the little dead soldier over his shoulder.

“What exactly do you want?”

Wei San had never seen such a shameless person. Does he think that since he had his way with me once, it wasn’t enough, and now he’s developed a taste for it?

He was truly panicked; he had no idea what it was about him that had caught this scoundrel’s eye, forcing the man to come and toy with him time and again.

He could have consoled himself once by saying it was like being bitten by a dog, but he couldn’t accept it a second or third time—especially when the other person was a scoundrel who used force, something he was ten thousand times unwilling to do.

“Put me down! Do you really think I won’t expose this? I’ll have the Commander chop off that wretched root of yours!”

He threatened him in a fit of rage, his eye sockets rimmed with a faint red. His undergarment, held only by a belt, had come completely undone, hanging loosely, making him look as if he had been severely bullied—pitiful to behold.

“Commander Duan?”

The man holding him halted his steps, pausing in thought for a moment. Just as Wei San thought there was finally someone who could make this scoundrel afraid, the other let out a faint chuckle and sneered: “Good, go ahead and say it. It would be best if everyone knew you were drugged, that I saved you, and that you were not only ungrateful but also wanted to kill your savior so that everyone would know what an ungrateful person you are.”

“It would be even better to take it to the Prince and have the Master judge who is right and who is wrong. At that time, we’ll see if I end up worse off, or if you are the one left with a ruined reputation.”

Wei San was shocked by this extremely shameless statement. “It was you forcing me—how can you be so…”

He had already taken all the advantages, and to top it off, he was able to turn the tables and play the victim.

If Wei San were an ordinary person, perhaps he would have been truly threatened by these words, but unfortunately, he was a dead soldier.

In the life-or-death profession of a dead soldier, where one was never certain to see the next day’s sun, who would care about something as dispensable as reputation?

But even if he didn’t care about his reputation, and even if he could lose his life, he was terrified of these filthy matters reaching the Master’s ears, causing the Master to think of him as a loose and depraved person and abandon him.

He couldn’t even bear to imagine that scene.

Wei San wanted to struggle, but the moment he moved, the scoundrel patted him—half in punishment, half as a warning.

“Don’t move around, or be careful that I’ll carry you into the main camp and let everyone get a good look at what you look like right now.”

Other than the undergarment draped over him, he was wearing absolutely nothing. Wei San flushed a deep red; he didn’t have the thick skin to parade about naked in front of so many colleagues.

Seeming to think that threat wasn’t enough, he added: “Of course, if you don’t mind, you could also invite them to enjoy a live spring palace performance.”

Wei San had no choice but to swallow his anger, not daring to doubt that he would actually do such a thing.

He watched as the man carried him further and further away from the dead soldier camp, until he was once again carried into that same room from before.

He didn’t know where this secret guard found this courtyard; it looked deserted, yet the inside was kept very clean.

When he was thrown onto the bed, Wei San grew calm.

He couldn’t win a fight, his internal energy was sealed, and forced resistance would likely only end in him suffering more. It was better to comply for now and act according to circumstances.

As he quieted down, Wei Zheng felt that something was wrong.

Why are you suddenly so obedient? He was likely cooking up some kind of mischief.

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the person on the bed from a superior height.

Wei San glared at him indignantly: “If you’ve got the guts, then untie me.”

“Hmm, I don’t have the guts.”

Wei Zheng didn’t untie him; instead, he bound him even more securely.

Wei San watched as he undressed and climbed into bed, feeling both nervous and extremely unwilling. He shifted his body toward the inside of the bed, refusing to be captured obediently even though he was pinned and unable to move.

Seeing the dead soldier turning his head away, refusing to look at him, with an expression of stubborn resentment, Wei Zheng suddenly found it boring.

“Forget it, I’m not a villain who forces others. Since you are unwilling, I’ll let you off this time, but I can’t say the same for next time.”

He flipped over and sat up, reaching out to pick up his robes.

Wei San, who had already steeled himself to be “bitten by the dog” again, was stunned. A hint of joy appeared uncontrollably on his face, though he quickly suppressed it.

He didn’t give him a single pleasant look, sneering and mocking him in return: “So, I’m supposed to be grateful to you, the rapist?”

Wei Zheng: “…” What a beautiful beauty, why does he have to have a mouth that is so infuriating?

He licked his canine teeth and suddenly changed his mind; he wasn’t leaving.

He lay back down, his long arms scooping the dead soldier into his embrace.

“What are you doing?!” Wei San was startled, his legs bent to press against his abdomen, his tone filled with a mix of ferocity, nervousness, and panic.

Wei Zheng gripped his lower leg and twisted: “Nothing, sleeping. If you move again, I can’t guarantee what I might do.”

Wei San: “…”

Wei Zheng did as he said; hugging him, he really did just go to sleep.

Wei San listened as the person beside him breathed more and more rhythmically. The moment he tried to free himself, his waist was gripped and his legs pinned down; even his ten fingers were wrapped firmly in the other’s palm, completely ending his thoughts of using the other’s sleep to untie the gauze on his wrists.

“Don’t move around, behave and let me hold you.”

Perhaps because of extreme exhaustion, the secret guard’s voice was dark and hoarse, and unexpectedly, it sounded pleasant.

The warm breath brushed past his ear, and Wei San’s ear felt numb and hot; he attributed it to the natural reaction of being too close.

With his hands and feet pressed down and his internal energy sealed, Wei San had no choice but to resign himself to his fate. But fearing the other might be tricking him—waiting for him to fall asleep so he could go back on his word—he didn’t dare to sleep deeply.

He drifted through the night in a haze of consciousness until he had a splitting headache, while the culprit woke up feeling refreshed.

Wei Zheng had rarely had such a good sleep and was in a good mood. He propped his head up, lying on his side, and teased the dead soldier, looking at the dark circles under his eyes: “Did you not close your eyes for the whole night?”

Wei San looked away, having no energy to argue with him.

He struggled against the gauze binding his wrists and said: “When do you plan to untie me?”

Having been bound all night, Wei San felt his hands were almost useless; his wrists were marked with circles of red, which looked particularly jarring against his translucently pale skin, while also possessing a sort of cruel beauty.

Wei Zheng studied him, his eyes dark and inscrutable.

He had to admit that the little dead soldier was very much to his aesthetic, otherwise he wouldn’t have been thinking of him for several days. He suddenly regretted acting like a “gentleman” last night; letting the little dead soldier go had only made him suffer.

Wei Zheng rubbed his fingertips with regret; the harder it was to eat this piece of fat, the more he wanted to snatch it away.

He scanned Wei San, looking for all the world like a vicious dog marking its territory.

I need to find a way to make the little dead soldier willing to let me sleep with him…

Wei San watched him alertly, sensing that he wasn’t up to any good.

He tensed his nerves, observing his every move. He didn’t know that his current expression looked to Wei Zheng like a bristling civet cat—not at all annoying, but rather, something he wanted to tease and play with properly.

Wei Zheng felt a wave of mischief. He pinched Wei San’s cheek and gently rubbed it: “Untying you would likely lead to you fighting me again; I don’t do things that have no benefits.”

Wei San’s eyes were filled with gloom: “Then what do you want?”

Wei Zheng pointed to his lips: “Kiss me, and I’ll let you go.”

Wei San: “…”

Wei San simply closed his eyes, deciding not to look, physically expressing his stubborn, death-defying resistance.

Wei Zheng wasn’t annoyed; if the mountain wouldn’t come to him, he would go to the mountain.

“I really don’t know what to do with you. I suppose I’ll have to do it myself.”

He leaned down and kissed the beauty’s bright red, thin lips again and again, causing the other’s body to stiffen. The look of irritation in his eyes was like a bone-scraping knife, scraping against him rhythmically.

Wei Zheng had thick skin; he only rose and climbed out of bed after kissing him.

He didn’t immediately unseal Wei San’s acupoints but dressed himself in a leisurely manner, even thoughtfully retrieving a set of clothes for Wei San from the inner room.

He shook out the black robe with dark cloud patterns and teased: “Sweetheart, it’s not convenient with your hands tied; how about I help you put them on?”

The dead soldier trembled with rage, returning a gritted-teeth “get out.”

Wei Zheng “got out” in a good mood.

Once his internal energy was restored, Wei San didn’t need to untie the knots; he simply burst the gauze apart.

He shook his numb wrists, a pent-up frustration he couldn’t release, and when his gaze fell upon the black robe left at the bedside, he couldn’t help but grind his teeth.

Of course, he wouldn’t throw the clothes away out of momentary anger; he didn’t have the habit of parading naked in public wearing only his undergarments.

When Wei San returned to the dead soldier camp, the camp was already empty. Those who had missions were out, and those who needed to train at the practice grounds were gone; he was the only idler who had just returned.

He circled back to the bathhouse to collect the items he had left behind the night before, and after carefully verifying that nothing was missing, he walked toward his room like a thief.

There was no Wei Jiu blocking the door this time, so Wei San headed straight into his room. But just as he sat down and hadn’t even taken a sip of hot tea, he saw the Secret Guard Commander, Duan Lin, standing at the threshold.

Duan Lin didn’t walk in directly, standing strangely in place, his expression indescribable.

Wei San didn’t think much of it and quickly stood up to welcome him.

“Commander, are you looking for me? Is there a new mission?”

He assumed there was another assignment to be issued.

Duan Lin looked him over with a strange expression, hesitating to speak.

Wei San felt a chill run down his spine at that look, and he began to reflect on whether he had made a mistake somewhere.

Just as he was about to kneel and admit his fault directly, Duan Lin said quietly: “There is indeed a task I need you to do.”

As long as it wasn’t because he had made a mistake, Wei San was relieved. He was just about to accept the order when he heard Duan Lin add: “The Master said he needs a male concubine, and it must be someone picked from the dead soldier camp.”

A male concubine?

Wei San’s brain was filled with question marks.

Duan Lin saw his confusion, patted him on the shoulder, and sighed: “The Prince loves beauties, and you are the most striking in the camp. I can only wrong you.”

Wei San: “…”