The Vicious Beauty Faked His Death Three Times [Transmigration] - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Entering the Trap (Current Trust Value: 50)

The Winter Banquet of the Hundred Demons Sect was truly grand. The entire sect was decorated with festive lanterns, and the demons within were dressed in new clothes, laughing and playing games from years past it bore some resemblance to the Spring Festival in the human world.

A banquet, of course, would not be complete without a feast.

The beginning was naturally lively. By the second half, Shen Miaomiao had dragged Ye Zhaoyan out to find some fun, and soon only the three Sect Leaders of the Hundred Demons Sect remained, sitting together and chatting about domestic matters.

Ling Yanhe stood in the shadows, watching Lin Qinghan, who was dressed in green robes.

Green was usually a plain color, but on Lin Qinghan, it made his skin look even fairer, though a faint, lingering air of illness could still be discerned.

“Big Brother, this is the first time in twenty years you’ve spent the Winter Banquet with us. I know you’re leaving the sect in a few days, and I don’t know when you’ll return, but as long as you want to come back, the Hundred Demons Sect will always be your home. I hope next year you can spend the Winter Banquet with us again.” Wen Leyou, his consciousness blurred by the wine, walked up to Lin Qinghan with a raised cup.

As soon as these words were spoken, Hua Xueqiong, who was sitting nearby, turned her head away, not daring to look.

Lin Qinghan’s gaze fell on Wen Leyou’s reddened eyes. After a pause, he reached for the wine cup beside him.

But before he could raise his hand, his wrist was seized.

“Just recovered from a serious illness, why are you drinking?”

A cold, hard voice fell. Without giving Lin Qinghan a chance to react, the person beside him leaned down and drained the wine in the cup right from his hand.

Ling Yanhe looked down at the person beside him. The other turned back to look at him in surprise, but quickly lowered his eyes when Ling Yanhe looked back, refusing to meet his gaze.

Ling Yanhe instinctively knit his brows.

Wen Leyou was stunned by this scene. The moment he saw Lin Qinghan lower his eyes, the anger in his heart was ignited. He pointed at Ling Yanhe, full of resentment: “I really don’t know what’s so good about you that Big Brother took a fancy to you, only for him to be so heartbroken because of you.”

“Leyou,” Lin Qinghan knit his brows to stop him.

Wen Leyou instantly shut his mouth, but he shot Ling Yanhe a hateful glare, the fire in his heart impossible to suppress: “You’d better treat my Big Brother well, otherwise our Hundred Demons Sect will never let you off!”

“Wen Leyou!” Lin Qinghan’s voice carried a hint of anger.

Now, not only was Wen Leyou stunned, but even Hua Xueqiong frowned and looked over.

Lin Qinghan rarely lost his temper, and even more rarely called them by their full names, yet he had done so now because of Ling Yanhe.

Being called by his full name made the muddled Wen Leyou feel even more aggrieved. He lowered his eyes and said in a muffled, buzzing voice: “Big Brother, your soul has been hooked away by this person. I heard it all from Shen Miaomiao; she said during the time you were away, you were always by this person’s side, and you even risked your life for him…”

A powerful surge of spiritual energy rushed forward. Wen Leyou stared dazed at Lin Qinghan.

Lin Qinghan was currently looking at him coldly, his gaze full of detachment and intimidation.

This made Wen Leyou feel very estranged.

Big Brother had never treated him like this. Was the person before him truly his Big Brother?

Wen Leyou looked at him in a daze, suddenly realizing he couldn’t see Lin Qinghan’s face clearly.

Seeing Lin Qinghan’s frowning, displeased expression, Wen Leyou’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

“No, you aren’t Big Brother…” Wen Leyou shook his head gently, murmuring in a daze.

“Clang—”

The wine cup slid from Wen Leyou’s hand. The sound it made as it hit the ground wasn’t loud, yet it drowned out the clamoring music.

“Leyou!” Hua Xueqiong looked at Wen Leyou, who had suddenly dropped his cup and left, her expression ugly.

Her voice wasn’t heard by Wen Leyou; he fled in a panic, looking utterly wretched.

“Big Brother!” Hua Xueqiong looked at Lin Qinghan with a dark face, but her gaze instantly became complex when it fell on the person behind him.

“If you’re going to plead for him, then go with him,” Lin Qinghan said coldly, avoiding Hua Xueqiong’s gaze.

In an instant, Hua Xueqiong froze on the spot. She looked at Lin Qinghan in disbelief, seemingly unable to understand why her usually gentle Big Brother would say such words.

The rims of her eyes turned only slightly red before she lowered her head to hide it.

“Big Brother, I know you’re speaking out of anger, but these words truly… hurt the heart.” Hua Xueqiong paused and turned around, her voice returning to normal after a slight tremble. “I’ll go talk to Leyou. Please, Big Brother, think it over as well.”

Following that, Hua Xueqiong also left. In the previously lively banquet hall, only Lin Qinghan and Ling Yanhe remained.

Ling Yanhe looked down at the person who had suddenly become cold and heartless, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Aren’t you going to check on them?” he asked.

Lin Qinghan waved him off, his tone somewhat irritable: “Let them throw their tantrums.”

Once these words were spoken, there was no room for retreat.

This play was executed too crudely; it doesn’t seem like Lin Qinghan’s handiwork, Ling Yanhe thought.

But he took a step forward, leaning down slightly with both hands braced on either side of Lin Qinghan, trapping him in the narrow space before the table. “The antidote I gave you for the Gu parasite last time was incomplete. Do you need me to supplement it?”

As the words fell, Lin Qinghan’s body shuddered. He turned his head to look at him, his eyes somewhat vacant, and the thorn-flower pattern on his neck flickered.

Ling Yanhe looked at those wildly growing thorn-flowers, a trace of realization flashing in his eyes.

It seemed he was being manipulated by the Symbiotic Gu; an insufficient dosage of the antidote had stirred up the irritability in the depths of Lin Qinghan’s heart.

But it wasn’t necessarily true that this man wasn’t using this as an opportunity.

Ling Yanhe half-squinted his eyes, scrutinizing the semi-conscious Lin Qinghan beneath him, and said in a deep voice: “Come and take it yourself.”

Dark emotions churned in his pitch-black eyes, yet he suppressed them, using a smile to hook the person beneath him.

Lin Qinghan was stunned for a moment, appearing not to fully understand his meaning. His ignorant gaze slid down from Ling Yanhe’s eyes and stopped on his lips.

Ling Yanhe watched him, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

A breeze blew in, brushing past Lin Qinghan’s face and awakening his consciousness slightly.

A slender hand rose, resting gently on the back of Ling Yanhe’s neck. Then, using that leverage, Lin Qinghan turned around in that small space to meet Ling Yanhe’s dark gaze.

The pressure on the back of his neck didn’t vanish; instead, it grew heavier, heavy enough to pull Lin Qinghan’s upper body up, drawing him gradually closer to Ling Yanhe.

Ling Yanhe’s breathing deepened, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on Lin Qinghan. The churning emotions in his eyes looked as if they wanted to devour someone.

Warm breath sprayed onto his face. Lin Qinghan’s nose brushed against the side of his face tentatively, causing his heart to tighten.

But Lin Qinghan only brushed against him, with no further movement for a long time, forcing Ling Yanhe’s breathing to become even more ragged.

Suddenly, Lin Qinghan looked up. Those soulful eyes were now shimmering with light, and the corners of his eyes had turned red. He knit his brows and looked at Ling Yanhe, calling out in a soft voice that sounded like both a complaint and a grievance: “Give it to me.”

Ling Yanhe’s heart sank, and he instinctively leaned down.

In a flash of lightning, the Black Bone Fan suddenly pierced through Ling Yanhe’s shoulder. Blood splattered onto both his and Lin Qinghan’s clothes.

He lifted his eyelids to look over, meeting Lin Qinghan’s eyes, which had regained their clarity at some unknown point—they were now filled with bone-chilling coldness.

“If there is a next time, I will kill you,” Lin Qinghan said heartlessly.

The scent of blood filled the space between them.

Ling Yanhe looked at the blatant murderous intent in Lin Qinghan’s eyes, and his dead-quiet black eyes were ignited with sparks of light.

He paid no heed to the Black Bone Fan in his shoulder. Instead, he continued to lean down, completely trapping Lin Qinghan before the table.

The dishes on the table were instantly swept away by fine threads, clattering as they all crashed to the floor.

Lin Qinghan’s eyes darkened, and he applied some force with his hand. Yet the youth pressing down on him let out a low laugh because of his movement, causing a chill to instinctively surge down Lin Qinghan’s spine.

When Lin Qinghan was pressed so far he had no room to retreat, a fine thread unexpectedly lashed across his neck, pinning him onto the pre-prepared table.

Lin Qinghan was forced to look up at the youth who was narrowing his eyes.

Ling Yanhe, however, did not care about the intense hatred in the depths of Lin Qinghan’s eyes. His gaze swept over the blood seeping from his shoulder, and the dark emotions in his eyes were churning.

He grabbed Lin Qinghan’s wrist with one hand and yanked hard. The bone fan was pulled out along with blood, a few splatters of which landed on Lin Qinghan’s handsome face.

Lin Qinghan’s expression instantly became unsightly.

The fine thread on his right hand pinned him to the table following his movement, while his other hand was gripped by Ling Yanhe. He was completely restrained, unable to move at all—a picture of someone entirely at another’s mercy.

Ling Yanhe used one hand to wipe the blood from his shoulder, then he leaned down and smeared the blood harshly onto those silver-tongued thin lips.

But the other party did not cooperate; the sudden movement of turning his head caused the blood to draw a long streak across the side of his face.

“Madman,” Lin Qinghan said, looking at Ling Yanhe, the anger in his eyes impossible to hide.

“Mm.” Ling Yanhe was not angered by this. Instead, he looked at him with a smile a look that made Lin Qinghan’s skin crawl. “I am a madman.”

“A madman… you can’t bring yourself to kill.”

The drawn-out ending carried a hint of laziness and an imminent excitement. It fell into Lin Qinghan’s ear like a thunderclap on flat ground, causing his face to turn deathly pale.

Ling Yanhe watched his reaction, the smile and churning desire in his eyes no longer able to be hidden.

Facing the other’s disgust and terror, he slowly leaned down, his thin lips parting slightly as he pressed them gently against the protruding Adam’s apple on the other’s neck.

The fragile, tender skin was rubbed lightly by his teeth, forcing a muffled groan out of Lin Qinghan.

Simultaneously, the Black Bone Fan flew out again, trying to pierce Ling Yanhe’s heart, but it was blocked by a mystic iron sword and instantly pinned to the floor, unable to move.

Lin Qinghan’s heart was also like that bone fan, hammered harshly into the ground. He revealed an unprecedented despair and pain, able only to close his eyes weakly, forcing himself not to look at the current situation.

Like a sparrow struggling to fly out of someone’s hand, having tried to flap its wings countless times only to crash heavily to the ground, only when its head was bruised and bleeding did it realize with terror that the wings meant for soaring had long been gripped tightly in someone’s hand.

Whether to live or die was no longer up to it.

Ling Yanhe looked up at those trembling eyelashes, his heart feeling more exhilarated than ever before.

He didn’t need to worry about where his desire for Lin Qinghan came from; Lin Qinghan was simply the sparrow in his hand that couldn’t escape.

It is normal for a master to develop feelings for his pet.

Furthermore, his life was more important to Lin Qinghan than Lin Qinghan’s own; what did this negligible obsession matter?

Lin Qinghan was his possession; that was enough.

Current Trust Value: 50 Congratulations to the Host for completing the side mission.

A breeze blew past, causing the candle flames at the banquet to flicker, and also causing the limp, slender fingers to curl slightly.

“Tsk.” Lin Qinghan pushed away the person pressing on him, tossing aside the fine thread at his neck as well.

Looking at Ling Yanhe, who had fainted on the floor, the coldness on Lin Qinghan’s face deepened. He reached up to touch his neck, and a stinging pain immediately followed.

“Just like a dog,” Lin Qinghan said with a frown. He rubbed his wrist; his gaze darkened when he touched the fine thread that had been tied to his right wrist at some unknown point. “Ungrateful creature.”

But the person manipulating the fine thread was unconscious; the thread wrapped around his wrist was now a truly dead object.

Lin Qinghan bent over to roll the prone Ling Yanhe onto his back. His expression became strange as he looked at the wound on the other’s shoulder, which was gradually healing.

This recovery is too fast.

Lin Qinghan simply stopped minding the person on the floor. He looked up at the unusually blurred full moon in the sky.

He had intended to use Hua Xueqiong’s hand to farm a wave of Trust Value, but he hadn’t expected to finish the quota early. Since that was the case, he might as well see what she intended to do.

Suddenly, Lin Qinghan withdrew his gaze. He lifted his hand slightly, and the candle flames at the banquet were instantly extinguished. He also gradually vanished into the darkness, his clear eyes looking toward a certain spot.

Someone was coming.

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