Transmigrated as the Villain and Driven Crazy by the Vengeful Male Lead - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Arriving Late, but Arriving Nonetheless — Burning like a Slow Simmer. It was fine when he couldn’t remember, but once…

Burning like a slow simmer.

It was fine when he couldn’t remember, but once he recalled that he too had fallen into the trap, the unholy fire within his body could no longer be suppressed. He burned until his chest ached, a pain so sharp he was forced to crouch down. “Su Cheyue…”

Su Cheyue looked at him in bewilderment.

“I…” It felt as though ten thousand tongues were licking through his blood; he could already feel the change within himself.

It was a surge more violent than any morning he had ever experienced.

Clinging to his last shred of clarity, he forced out, “I’ll go get someone…”

“Don’t.” Su Cheyue looked away, but his hand gripped Lv Shuyao’s. “Don’t call anyone.”

“I have to…” The sudden contact made Lv Shuyao’s jaw tremble. “You’ll swell… you’ll die of pain…”

“I’d rather die of swelling and pain.”

Su Cheyue’s voice was so hoarse it was almost gone, but the low murmur that escaped carried a fierce, desperate determination. Lv Shuyao could not withstand that voice. Bracing himself against the floor, he cast a Voice Transmission Spell: “Tao Xuanxuan! Where are you?! It’s a matter of life and death, come see the Second Young Master now!”

Tao Xuanxuan’s reply was cold and detached: “It’s a matter of life and death on my end, too.”

It was over.

He had forgotten. He Zixu’s poison had just flared up tonight; Tao Xuanxuan was surely stretched thin.

It was over.

Everything was going to hell.

Lv Shuyao’s mind went blank. He instinctively tried to pry Su Cheyue’s hand away. That palm was slick with sweat; the moment their skin met, the moisture mingled and surged, sending a sliding, electric shock through them. Both men trembled simultaneously. Su Cheyue let out a muffled groan as the lewd Gu insects stampeded through his body, leaving nothing unscathed, gradually devouring his sanity.

He was at his limit.

“Please…” He uttered a single word.

Lv Shuyao held his breath. “What?”

“…Want…”

What did he say?

At this moment, it felt as though they shared a single consciousness. As much agony as Lv Shuyao felt, he could perceive exactly how much Su Cheyue was suffering—and Su Cheyue was suffering a thousand, ten thousand times more.

This wasn’t the sadness of losing something; it was the agony of extreme desire, of wanting something desperately and being denied. It was like being parched and needing water, or burning with heat and needing air.

If he didn’t get it soon, he would collapse from weakness, as if hit by a terminal fever.

Su Cheyue was going to die.

He had no solution; he had nowhere to run.

“Su Cheyue,” Lv Shuyao heard himself murmur, “…Do you know who I am?”

It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it; he just had to be sure. He had to be sure this was consensual.

Su Cheyue’s face was buried in his hair, so Lv Shuyao couldn’t see his expression, but the corner of his mouth seemed to quirk up in a bewitching arc: “…Yao.”

Yao? Was it his name, “Yao,” or the word for “Want” (which sounds the same)?

Either word was enough to snap the last, taut thread of Lv Shuyao’s nerves.

As fireworks exploded in the sky and the floodgates of instinct burst open, he swept him up into his arms.

Su Cheyue’s eyes were unfocused, filled with raw desire. Lv Shuyao wondered if he was hallucinating from the strain. In the split second before he extinguished the lamp with a flick of his fingers, he thought he saw Su Cheyue gasping for breath, eyes closing, with a faint smile.

Madness. Either Su Cheyue was mad, or he was.

Su Cheyue felt a bit heavier than when he had first carried him. The firm texture of his back felt just right, and the curve of his neck fit perfectly against Lv Shuyao’s arm, like two pieces of a puzzle.

This seamless contact—where only fabric and fluid could pass—sent a wave of comfort through Lv Shuyao that made his fingertips tingle.

The scent of green pear unique to Su Cheyue wafted from his robes. It wasn’t as thick or heady as apple or mango, yet it seemed more capable of blinding his five senses.

Are there green pears in winter?

Could such a light, astringent, and elegant scent also spark desire and lead to ruin?

Suddenly, he felt he couldn’t just lay the man on the bed. They couldn’t be in the same bed.

Otherwise, he couldn’t predict what he might do.

He stood still for a moment to steady himself, then asked hoarsely, “Can we go to the chair? Is that okay?”

Su Cheyue did not answer. Once the light was out, he could no longer read his emotions.

The wooden wheelchair sat by the wall, and Su Cheyue was lowered gently into it. As Lv Shuyao tried to pull away, Su Cheyue remained reluctant, gripping his shoulders, pulling him close, his hot breath blooming against Lv Shuyao’s neck.

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” Lv Shuyao’s heart drummed like a war song. He grabbed a nearby chair and sat opposite him.

Su Cheyue was burning. The collar of his robes had been half-torn open by his own hands, revealing skin as thin and white as porcelain, shimmering with a watery sheen in Lv Shuyao’s eyes. Suffocating on his own breath, Lv Shuyao reached out to loosen the rest of his clothes.

The long robes fell away, a white brightness that outshone the moon. Su Cheyue let out a short sigh, his eyelids drooping. Just as Lv Shuyao began to pull back to his chair, Su Cheyue leaned toward him. Lv Shuyao caught him, and he slid from the wheelchair into his warm embrace.

He was desperate to be held.

Lv Shuyao was startled to realize he didn’t find this repulsive at all. On the contrary, his heart burned, and a sour ache rose to the bridge of his nose, leaving him speechless.

Since they could no longer sit in separate chairs, Lv Shuyao supported him, sitting against the wall. He crouched beside him, one hand interlaced with Su Cheyue’s fingers.

Lowering his voice, he confirmed one last time: “Su Cheyue, who am I?”

Su Cheyue only said, “Don’t leave.”

Lv Shuyao’s other hand reached down.

The moment contact happened, another streak of fire shot into the sky, and the world roared.

He had never imagined a day would come when he would do such a thing for someone else. Lv Shuyao closed his eyes; even breathing felt like a sin. His fingers trembled, his heart rioted, and the tip of his tongue felt sour and soft.

Su Cheyue’s nails dug into Lv Shuyao’s palm; his entire being was caught in Lv Shuyao’s hand. Lethally, as they gradually adjusted to the dim light of the room, Su Cheyue finally raised his eyes to look at him.

His brown pupils were washed pale and clean by the moonlight, but that didn’t stop them from holding an inexhaustible thirst—a shade of vulnerability never before seen on the cold and proud Second Young Master. He seemed satisfied, yet far from finished. He watched him like that: tenderly, obsessively, and without end.

Eye contact is a kiss without the lust.

But in this situation, beneath his shivering fingertips, eye contact was a kiss that drowned in a sea of desire.

Lv Shuyao fell into a delusion.

This had nothing to do with the Gu, nothing to do with Hatred Values, and nothing to do with the outside world.

They were simply revelling in love.

…Cheyue.

Su Cheyue slowly raised a hand, seemingly wanting to touch his eyebrows. Lv Shuyao couldn’t bear that gaze. He broke his hand away from Su Cheyue’s fingers and used it to cover the other man’s eyes.

Su Cheyue gripped his wrist in return, the pear flower wreath sliding down to his elbow. Lv Shuyao used a bit of force to press the back of Su Cheyue’s head against the wall. “Don’t move.”

He wanted to finish quickly. His fingers moved with a tight, swirling rhythm; the vein beneath his wrist throbbed, and the pulse of Su Cheyue’s life force in his palm throbbed with it.

This violent thumping caused Lv Shuyao’s blood to rush to his head. He knit his brows tightly, trying his hardest to suppress the trembling softness in his chest. His back was drenched.

With his eyes covered, Su Cheyue’s breathing grew more and more rapid. He was almost crushing Lv Shuyao’s wrist to support himself, to keep from crying out.

However, Lv Shuyao’s movements were too fast and too heavy. Before long, Su Cheyue finally gasped, letting out a low, whimpering sob.

Lv Shuyao’s pupils snapped wide.

He couldn’t see Su Cheyue’s eyes, but he could see his lips—broken and bloody. The tongue and teeth behind them were faintly visible, following the rhythm of Lv Shuyao’s hand, venturing forward and then retreating.

After that one sob, the Second Young Master found a sliver of conscious pride, just enough to let him bite down hard on his lower lip to keep from making any more noise.

The moonlight poured down like rivers and seas. The sight of the person before him, eyes covered and lip half-bitten, was laid bare for Lv Shuyao to see.

His head buzzed as if his soul had been snatched away and another spirit had entered his body.

He leaned in. He could already hear Su Cheyue’s shallow, broken gasps in his ear.

Only 0.01 millimeters separated their lips.

Su Cheyue whimpered again. Lv Shuyao snapped back to reality, his eyes darkening as he turned his head aside and bit down on Su Cheyue’s shoulder.

…

Lv Shuyao was still biting Su Cheyue’s shoulder, his vision completely blurred.

Even though it was Su Cheyue who found release, it felt as though Lv Shuyao was possessed. The moment his palm grew hot, a numbing sensation surged from his lower abdomen, raced up his spine, and hit the top of his head.

It felt like a fulfillment, a completion.

Lv Shuyao let go. They didn’t look at each other again, leaning on each other’s shoulders, breathing in exhaustion.

Lv Shuyao was not someone who indulged in self-gratification, so he hadn’t known he was so naturally gifted at this.

Given his father’s sordid affairs, he had thought he would find such acts revolting, yet with Su Cheyue, he didn’t.

He realized that at some point, he had shifted from crouching to kneeling, as if in an act of surrender.

It was terrible.

Because it felt… incredible.

…

I don’t know how much time passed, but eventually the fireworks outside faded, and the silence of night returned. The room was dark. The heaviness and pleasure slowly receded, and logic returned to fill his consciousness.

Lv Shuyao regretted biting his shoulder, but then felt a wave of relief.

At least it was just the shoulder.

Su Cheyue pulled away slightly, his voice weak. “You…”

Lv Shuyao: “…”

Su Cheyue said, “I will definitely take his life.”

Lv Shuyao: “Okay.”

Su Cheyue was quiet for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Will we be like Jiang Zhiqing and Chang Huaichen?”

“No.”

Su Cheyue didn’t speak again.

Lv Shuyao helped him dress. In the familiar posture, he carried him in his arms, feeling the sweat on his neck that hadn’t yet cooled. Lv Shuyao’s heart felt softened by that sweat; he couldn’t help but look down, wanting to say something.

But at a time like this, anything said felt wrong—anything would be awkward, yet anything would be intimate.

The watchman’s bell rang outside; the hour of Zi had passed. So he said softly:

“Su Cheyue, Happy New Year.”

Su Cheyue stayed quiet in his arms for a long time. Just as Lv Shuyao reached the bed, he suddenly reached out.

For the first time, while Lv Shuyao was carrying him, he actively wrapped his arms around the other’s neck.

It was as if this gesture was his response—a silent permission, a hint.

“May the New Year… be joyous,” he said.