The Vicious Beauty Faked His Death Three Times [Transmigration] - Chapter 46

Chapter 46: Carving

Such offensive words made even He Yuzhi frown; he moved his body to shield Lin Qinghan behind him.

He then looked at the youth before him with displeasure: “Biewan and I have been close friends for many years; why can’t I be here?”

“On the other hand, Fellow Disciple Lin, what brings you here so late?”

Hearing this, Ling Yanhe finally fixed his gaze upon He Yuzhi.

Only his way of “looking” was truly not friendly; the casual way he sized him up was full of disdain and provocation, stirring a fire in He Yuzhi’s heart.

Seeming to have confirmed something, Ling Yanhe lowered his eyes, his voice dropping into a lazy and ambiguous tone: “Didn’t Senior Brother say he wanted me to be his man, and even asked me to come to his room at night?”

The moment those highly suggestive words came out, He Yuzhi’s brows knit into a tight knot.

“Biewan would never say such things.”

Ling Yanhe lifted his eyelids to look at him, his eyes sharp and scrutinizing: “You seem to know him very well?”

He Yuzhi frowned, about to speak.

“Brother He.”

The person at the center of the vortex finally spoke to stop this farce.

“I was the one who called him here; I forgot to tell you.”

Hearing this, the gloom in Ling Yanhe’s eyes gradually dissipated, and his brows quirked as he looked at He Yuzhi.

Seeing this, He Yuzhi’s heart sank, feeling more and more that Ling Yanhe must have threatened Lin Qinghan with something in the forest earlier to make him say such things.

But this was only a guess after all, and since Lin Qinghan had spoken, it wasn’t right for him to keep standing at the door. He simply turned and walked into the room, ignoring Ling Yanhe at the threshold.

Being neglected and treated differently didn’t bother Ling Yanhe at all; he stepped right into the room.

His gaze had been fixed on Lin Qinghan since He Yuzhi turned around, not even looking as he casually pushed the door shut behind him.

If gazes had substance, Lin Qinghan felt he would have been devoured whole by Ling Yanhe by now.

“Brother He, do you have other business with me tonight?” Lin Qinghan spoke, looking at He Yuzhi.

With Ling Yanhe here, he didn’t want He Yuzhi lingering in front of the man too much, lest he attract some accidental calamity.

Hearing this, He Yuzhi was stunned. He glanced at Ling Yanhe beside him and then looked back at Lin Qinghan with a slight frown.

Since when did Biewan and Lin Yan become so close?

But he didn’t think deeply on it, assuming he was overthinking. Perhaps they had matters to discuss that weren’t for his ears.

Biewan had always acted this way; he was long used to it.

After settling his emotions, He Yuzhi brought out a wooden box and handed it over.

Lin Qinghan took the box and opened it, raising an eyebrow slightly when he saw the jade bracelet inside.

The bracelet was narrow, white, and lustrous—pure, delicate, and moist. Most importantly, it contained powerful spiritual energy; it was no ordinary item.

Even Ling Yanhe nearby looked over, but his gaze only swept across the bracelet before falling back onto Lin Qinghan.

“A Heart-Protecting Bracelet. I couldn’t reach your side in time when that incident happened earlier, so I’m leaving this with you, hoping it will keep you safe and prosperous.”

“Don’t let anything happen to you again.”

Lin Qinghan lifted his eyes to look at the man before him.

He Yuzhi looked at him with a smile—helpless, concerned, and above all, sincere.

The wooden box was closed. Lin Qinghan lowered his eyes: “Thank you, Brother He.”

This item was meant for Shen Biewan; he would not accept it.

Ling Yanhe raised an eyebrow at the sight, a trace of an imperceptible smile flashing in his eyes.

Seeing that he closed the box with no intention of wearing it, He Yuzhi felt a pang of bitterness, though he quickly masked it.

“Since you have matters to discuss, Biewan, I won’t disturb you. Rest early.”

“Mm.”

Only after the door closed did Lin Qinghan turn his gaze toward Ling Yanhe, who had been standing there for a long time.

“Why aren’t you wearing it?”

Ling Yanhe took a step forward, looking down at Lin Qinghan, his voice light.

“None of your business.” Lin Qinghan put the box away and looked up at Ling Yanhe, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Have you made up your mind since you came to see me?”

“No, I came to Senior Brother’s place to take something back.”

As he spoke, Ling Yanhe’s gaze fell upon Lin Qinghan’s finger. After seeing the object clearly, he looked at the man with surprise, the playfulness in his eyes impossible to hide.

Seeing this, Lin Qinghan raised his hand directly to let him see it clearly: “I’ve said it, this thing is mine now.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“That object is too wicked; you can’t suppress it.”

Ling Yanhe looked over, his tone serious.

Lin Qinghan sneered, not wanting to spare him even a glance.

How could his own bone ash not be wicked?

Ling Yanhe, however, thought Lin Qinghan was angry and took another step forward, his voice dropping low: “Give this back to me, and I’ll give you another item to wear.”

Lin Qinghan glanced at him and leaned back slightly, his tone lilted, scratching at Ling Yanhe’s heart like an enticement.

“I don’t want that.”

“Then what do you want?”

Seeing Lin Qinghan’s completely defenseless appearance, Ling Yanhe’s breathing grew heavy, and he couldn’t pull his gaze away.

Lin Qinghan looked at him and smiled softly. Suddenly leaning in, his slender fingers pressed against Ling Yanhe’s heart, instantly making the other’s gaze darken and his breath stall.

“I want you to be my dog.”

With that, Lin Qinghan looked up at the man. Those soulful peach-blossom eyes were now slightly hooked, looking over with undisguised provocation.

“Only that?”

the slightly raspy voice fell.

Lin Qinghan raised an eyebrow: “Only that.”

Those dark eyes looked at him, the emotions within churning as if wanting to completely swallow the person before him.

The room suddenly went quiet. Lin Qinghan waited silently for the system to report an increase in Hatred Value.

“Is it that man?”

But it didn’t come; what fell instead was Ling Yanhe’s low, muffled voice.

Lin Qinghan was stunned for a moment before realizing Ling Yanhe was referring to He Yuzhi. He frowned slightly, not quite understanding why Ling Yanhe was asking this.

Was he trying to undercut his allies?

“What does Senior Brother want to do?”

Lin Qinghan suddenly looked up.

The youth also looked down at him, those black eyes staring straight back, containing suppressed emotions that Lin Qinghan couldn’t decipher. But the words he let fall sounded less like a promise and more like a seduction.

Without giving Lin Qinghan a chance to analyze it, the youth leaned down, one hand pressing onto his own. the scorching temperature was so hot that Lin Qinghan instinctively wanted to pull away, but the thought of not wanting to lose the upper hand forced him to suppress his first reaction.

“Is Senior Brother merely talking big?”

As the words fell, the youth moved forward again. Having not seen him for only half a year, his stature had grown again, and he could now completely envelop him.

They were too close.

Lin Qinghan frowned slightly and looked at Ling Yanhe.

The youth’s burning gaze fell upon him, his eyes devoid of any humiliation or anger, appearing certain that Lin Qinghan couldn’t do anything to him.

In an instant, the strange emotions in his heart were swept away, replaced by a competitive urge provoked by the other.

The ripples in his eyes were suppressed. Lin Qinghan looked up at Ling Yanhe; instead of pulling his hand away, he traced a light line over the man’s heart.

Seeing the other’s eyes flicker, Lin Qinghan curled his lips and said slowly: “Have you heard of the Heart-Binding Curse?”

“By using spiritual power mixed with fresh blood to carve characters onto someone’s heart while chanting the spell, one can bind their heart and compel them to do anything.”

His fingertips traced along with the falling words, touching Ling Yanhe’s heart with a teasing, light contact.

Ling Yanhe’s brow furrowed as he tried to pin down the hand causing trouble.

But before he could act, those slender, smooth hands slipped from his palm.

Ling Yanhe’s eyes darkened, and he moved to grab them again.

“Kneel.”

Ling Yanhe’s brow twitched. Powerful spiritual energy began to spread from his heart; the spell was complete.

An almost irresistible command drove his knees to bend slightly, but he soon forcibly held himself up.

“Tsk.”

Seeing Ling Yanhe resist it was within Lin Qinghan’s expectations, yet he was still somewhat unhappy.

As expected, the other wasn’t so easily manipulated by a simple spell.

Lin Qinghan crooked his finger, and the Immortal Binding Rope suddenly appeared in his hand from nowhere.

Ling Yanhe looked up at Lin Qinghan sharply. A familiar feeling surged up, flashing with fragments of lost memories.

“The third time.”

Lin Qinghan looked down at Ling Yanhe pressed to the floor. He ran his hand over the Immortal Binding Rope, which was covered in dense runes. If Ling Yanhe had his memories, he would recognize that the formation that had trapped him twice before was currently engraved on the rope.

“What is it for this time?”

Slender fingers lightly tilted Ling Yanhe’s chin, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze. Those black eyes were now staring straight at Lin Qinghan, truly carrying an unshakeable murderous aura.

Even the Heart Demon Seal on his brow was faintly visible, though it was quickly covered by the silver-white seal.

Lin Qinghan raised an eyebrow at the sight of the other nearly losing control.

How was he being pushed to the point where even his Heavenly Demon Bone was restless? Was being his dog that humiliating?

Seeing no reaction, the man still staring at him fixedly with a sinister gaze as if he truly wanted to kill him, Lin Qinghan’s gaze also turned cold. Without giving the other a chance to react, he tore open the man’s lapels.

A short blade soon appeared in his palm.

Cold light flashed. The moment blood dripped, the Heart Demon Seal on Ling Yanhe’s brow could no longer be suppressed. The mark turned so scarlet it almost seemed to bleed, and the black mist that had been suppressed for a long time broke through the original seal.

Current Hatred Value: 95

Suddenly, the Immortal Binding Rope snapped. Lin Qinghan’s wrist was seized in a death grip, the force so great it almost crushed his wrist bone.

“Hiss.”

Lin Qinghan frowned and looked at the youth before him with displeasure.

But Ling Yanhe only looked at the short blade in Lin Qinghan’s hand, and then at the hand that had been cut and was dripping blood. The drops of blood didn’t seem to fall on the floor, but rather into those eyes, dyeing those pitch-black pupils red.

Something was wrong; Ling Yanhe’s state was abnormal.

Lin Qinghan looked down at the person on the verge of losing control, wanting to investigate further.

Abruptly, a powerful, irresistible force yanked Lin Qinghan. the sudden pull made the unprepared man lean forward, yanking him forcefully into Ling Yanhe’s embrace.

The robes he wore were too thin to hide anything; he was now sitting in the other’s lap quite blatantly. As scalding breath brushed his face, Lin Qinghan frowned and instinctively tried to break free.

But Ling Yanhe’s arm pressed up from behind him, resting on his lower back and suddenly tightening. Lin Qinghan was rarely so intimate with anyone and didn’t know his waist was so sensitive; almost the moment the arm touched him, he involuntarily straightened his body to escape the touch, but this action instead delivered him into the man’s embrace.

Ling Yanhe gripped his wrist and encircled his waist, pinning him firmly in his arms before leaning in close.

Warm breath sprayed over him, making Lin Qinghan tilt his head. He instinctively felt that Ling Yanhe had regained his memories and was about to manipulate the “Wowo” sword to gain the initiative.

But the expected confrontation didn’t come; instead, a faint itchiness came from his neck. Lin Qinghan froze and slowly looked down at Ling Yanhe leaning against him.

The youth’s hands were mangled to the point where bone was visible from forcibly breaking the formation, staining even his seized right hand with blood, not to mention the warm, sticky sensation on his waist. The two looked as if they were sitting in a pool of blood, appearing as if they might pierce through each other’s hearts in the next second.

In such a heart-stopping scene, Ling Yanhe merely leaned close to his neck, even holding back his burning breath so lightly that Lin Qinghan almost couldn’t feel it.

He stopped struggling and watched Ling Yanhe quietly, wanting to see what the other intended to do.

Until those warm, thin lips pressed against his beating vessel, and Lin Qinghan’s whole body shuddered. Almost as a reflex, spiritual energy began to gather in his lowered hand.

But Ling Yanhe only brushed against it, then hung his head, sliding down slowly until he stopped at Lin Qinghan’s heart, pressing his ear against it.

The gathered spiritual energy dissipated. Lin Qinghan frowned, looking at the youth leaning against his chest with a complex expression.

Though he had only read the outline, Lin Qinghan understood that the person before him was being temporarily possessed by heart demons. He had thought the other would be manipulated by the hatred in his heart to kill him.

But no. Ling Yanhe just lay there against his chest, his whole person quieting down, and even the Heart Demon Seal on his brow gradually faded.

The room gradually grew quiet. The two of them leaned against each other like this, allowing blood to flow beneath them; it was bizarre and strange to the extreme.

Lin Qinghan watched Ling Yanhe, trying to figure out why he was acting like this. This didn’t look like the behavior of someone who hated him enough to want him dead. Or was the protagonist simply different, with a way of hating someone that defied common logic?

In the quiet atmosphere, the sound of breathing could gradually be heard. Simultaneously, Lin Qinghan heard another sound.

A heartbeat—his heartbeat.

Suddenly, Lin Qinghan’s pupils flickered as he looked at the surroundings.

The youth bound by the Immortal Binding Rope, the blood pooled on the floor, the similar short blade.

The exact same scene as before he left.

Lin Qinghan looked down at Ling Yanhe again. The protagonist of the original text—who feared nothing and manipulated everything—was currently prostrate in his embrace, tentatively listening for his heartbeat with longing.

In an instant, a term popped into Lin Qinghan’s mind: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Referring to a series of stress-related disorders caused by abnormally strong emotional fluctuations and delayed reactions after experiencing significant trauma—a disease.

But how could such a disease fall upon Ling Yanhe, and how could it be connected to him?

Didn’t Ling Yanhe hate him?

Thump-thump-thump.

The powerful heartbeat came from his ear. the vibration spread from his ear through Ling Yanhe’s whole body, yanking him out of his muddled thoughts.

Warm body temperature spread from his fingertips and embrace into his own heart.

Ling Yanhe finally lifted his head. He looked at the person in his arms. Those familiar, blurred eyes that had appeared countless times in his dreams were now clear, looking at him with calm mixed with other emotions.

The tangible gaze finally made Ling Yanhe realize that the person in his arms was real and alive, not a phantom.

The force pinning the person gradually loosened. The stinging pain from the long-ignored wounds also surged up, yet Ling Yanhe did not move. Those dark eyes stared fixedly at the person in his arms.

“Ling Yanhe, you have other feelings for me besides hatred.”

The calm and certain voice fell like a hammer striking Ling Yanhe’s heart. His breath, which had just steadied, grew hurried again because of the man’s words.

He instinctively tried to turn his head away, but his chin was pressed by a warm hand and forcibly turned back.

Ling Yanhe was forced to look at the person in his arms. Those peach-blossom eyes were now calm, looking at him as deep as water, as if conducting an interrogation.

Even though they were eye-to-eye, he felt as if he were looking up at him.

He disliked this feeling of being suppressed by someone, yet it unexpectedly vanished when looking at Lin Qinghan.

“What is it?”

Lin Qinghan’s voice was as gentle as ever, yet now it carried a command that brooked no refusal, like a pair of scissors cleanly snipping through the thin cloth over Ling Yanhe’s heart with a “snip.”

“What are these extra feelings you have for me?”

“Tsk. Still thinking of them even after the memory is gone. I truly don’t know whether to call you stupid or infatuated.”

The soft, enticing words mixed with the heart demon’s mockery fell into Ling Yanhe’s ear, making him frown like a sudden clap of thunder.

Lin Qinghan sat in his lap, watching the contemplative Ling Yanhe without hurry, waiting for the other’s answer.

In the next instant, the force pinning him was completely withdrawn. Not only that, his wrist was yanked by a fine thread, appearing to urge him to leave.

“Didn’t Senior Brother want to carve characters? Why waste breath talking nonsense?”

The atmosphere in the room fell into a moment of stagnation because of this sentence.

Lin Qinghan didn’t move; he still watched Ling Yanhe, who had turned his head away. But soon, the person who had averted his gaze turned back, those dark eyes looking straight at him without hiding.

Just as when he first saw Ling Yanhe—dead-still, stagnant, not stirred into ripples by anyone.

The moment they locked eyes, Lin Qinghan rose from the man’s embrace and sat back heartlessly in his chair.

The suddenly empty embrace allowed the cold wind to rush in, forcibly blowing away the remains of the warmth. the fingers hanging at his side still couldn’t help but curl, but Ling Yanhe quickly suppressed the urge.

He lifted his eyes and saw Lin Qinghan lowering his gaze to look at his heart.

The short blade, mixed with blood and spiritual power, pressed against his skin. Applying some force, it pierced the flesh, yet the expected blood didn’t flow out; instead, the scarlet blood remaining on the blade flowed into the wound.

Blood and life intermingling.

Ling Yanhe looked at Lin Qinghan undisguisedly.

The other’s long hair was scattered, a strand occasionally falling by his ear. the dim light hit that picture-perfect face. The eyes, usually curved, were now lowered, adding a trace of detachment.

Yet such a person leaned forward slightly, reaching out to press against his heart and carve a forceful curse.

The carvings fell one after another, and Ling Yanhe’s breathing grew heavier with them.

Suddenly, the focused Lin Qinghan stopped. Those beautiful eyes looked downward, and then his brow knit slightly.

“Lecherous and shameless.”

After being cursed, Ling Yanhe instead moved closer, his voice low: “Did Senior Brother carve that person too?”

Lin Qinghan looked over strangely, seemingly not expecting that someone whose page had long been turned would be mentioned by Ling Yanhe again.

The short blade fell again, heavier this time. The stinging pain made Ling Yanhe frown slightly, yet his gaze didn’t shift, remaining blatantly glued to Lin Qinghan.

“Only disobedient puppies get carved by their masters.” Lin Qinghan lifted the short blade, the cold edge lightly patting the side of Ling Yanhe’s face. “Are you obedient?”

A dark light flashed in Ling Yanhe’s eyes. He stared fixedly and reached out to grab the hand swaying before him.

But before he could act, the short blade was withdrawn, and Lin Qinghan was already seated properly again.

Ling Yanhe narrowed his eyes, his gaze lingering for a while before reluctantly shifting away to look down at the carving on his heart.

Simple characters; he couldn’t understand them.

“What did Senior Brother carve?”

“Have you remembered the things you lost?” Lin Qinghan asked instead of answering.

Those dark eyes sank.

Seeing this, Lin Qinghan laughed softly, looking down with a casual tone: “A stupid dog who can’t remember his master.”

Ling Yanhe frowned slightly, unable to accept the new title.

The carving on his heart was reflected in Lin Qinghan’s eyes, bringing a trace of a smile to them.

It didn’t matter; it didn’t matter if Ling Yanhe didn’t accept it. In any case, the brand had been carved, and he had specifically chosen the character with the most strokes.

Regardless of what feelings Ling Yanhe had for him, as long as he saw that carving once, he would think of him once, along with the feelings placed upon him.

That was enough.

As for what it truly was, he had plenty of time to investigate.

“Senior Brother, you haven’t given me the item yet.”

Ling Yanhe looked up, his gaze falling on that gray-black ring.

Lin Qinghan, having had enough of the game, took the ring off his finger and tossed it casually to the man before him.

A ring made of bone ash—only Ling Yanhe could wear it.

After getting the ring, Ling Yanhe stroked it and then slowly placed it on his right hand. Those dark eyes landed on Lin Qinghan again, his voice dropping low: “I also have something to give to Senior Brother.”

Lin Qinghan couldn’t be bothered to correct the “also” in the other’s words, lifting his eyelids without much interest. “Hm?”

A hand-rope woven from an unknown number of fine threads appeared before him. With one look, Lin Qinghan recognized the threads as the things Ling Yanhe manipulated, and instantly lost all interest.

But Ling Yanhe didn’t notice, still looking at him with a burning gaze, whispering: “Shall I put it on for Senior Brother?”

With that, he moved to rise and grab the man’s wrist.

A flash of white flickered before his eyes. Ling Yanhe abruptly stopped his movement, his breath stalling for an instant.

Lin Qinghan had placed his bare foot on the man’s shoulder.

Without the obstruction of shoes or socks, the soft, warm sensation rested on Ling Yanhe’s shoulder. He didn’t even have to lift his gaze to see that symmetrical, slender leg.

“Put it on right here.”

The toes dabbed lightly. Ling Yanhe abruptly lifted his eyes to look at Lin Qinghan, his gaze identical to that absurd night at the Suxuan Pavilion desire flowing undisguisedly, staring fixedly at Lin Qinghan as if he wanted to pounce and devour him right then.