Punishment

Shen Bichuan’s face turned stark white. He instinctively took two steps back and turned around, wanting to run downstairs, only to be met by two guards drawing their blades, firmly blocking his path.

The blood in Shen Bichuan’s body seemed to freeze. He stood on the spot, not daring to move a muscle, his breathing turning incredibly cautious.

Right then, the silhouette by the window slowly turned around.

Qin Ye set down his teacup and turned his body fully toward him. His gaze was deep and unreadable, carrying a sharp, all-seeing coldness.

He gave a gentle smile.

“Bichuan, I truly didn’t expect that you and I would meet here.”

Shen Bichuan shook all over, his fingertips turning pale from the cold.

Looking at Shen Bichuan dressed in the opera costume, Qin Ye’s gaze turned freezing and sinister.

“Are you surprised? My Consort Yu?”

Shen Bichuan’s eyes were filled with an equal mix of shock and horror. If Qin Ye was here, then where was Old Man Sun?

Seeing Shen Bichuan looking around the room, Qin Ye interrupted him coldly, his voice detached to the bone.

“Stop looking. That old man is already dead.”

Those words were like a sharp blade piercing his heart, causing an abrupt, agonizing pain to flare up in Shen Bichuan’s chest.

“Qin Ye!”

He glared viciously at the man, clenching his fists as he lunged at Qin Ye with total disregard for himself. But before he could even get close, he was shoved back by the palm strike of Qin Ye’s personal shadow guard.

Shen Bichuan clutched his chest and stumbled back two steps, coughing violently.

“Don’t waste your energy,” Qin Ye scoffed.

“Why?!” Shen Bichuan roared, completely breaking down.

He had clearly executed everything flawlessly. Why did it turn out like this?

Qin Ye smiled, his tone entirely casual.

“Bichuan, not just anyone can enter the Night King’s estate—unless they are people who can be used by me.”

Shen Bichuan’s heart sank violently, and everything became clear to him in an instant. He questioned the man word for word.

“So the people in that opera troupe were bought off by you long ago, weren’t they? They noticed I hid inside the box from the very start, didn’t they?”

A faint smile curled on Qin Ye’s lips as he spoke in a slow manner.

“Regrettably, that is exactly the case.”

Shen Bichuan’s face was deathly pale. His heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, aching with agonizing tension.

“Then why didn’t you expose me right from the beginning? Why did you let me escape, let me come all the way here? Why?”

Qin Ye stood up and paced over until he was right in front of Shen Bichuan, his presence heavily suffocating.

“Bichuan, do you know when a person feels the most despair?”

Shen Bichuan bit his lower lip hard, staring fixedly at Qin Ye without answering.

Qin Ye caressed Shen Bichuan’s paper-white face, leaning down to whisper cruelly in his ear.

“It is exactly when they are closest to hope.”

Shen Bichuan’s throat bobbed rapidly, completely unable to say a single word.

Qin Ye was just like a demon. He made him believe he was about to fly out of the cage, only to brutally snap his wings, dragging him right back into the boundless abyss of hell while forcing him to watch as the door to survival was personally shut in his face.

The two were barely an elbow’s distance apart. Shen Bichuan could clearly smell the faint scent of sandalwood on Qin Ye. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving violently like a dying prisoner waiting for the man to pronounce his death sentence.

Qin Ye noticed that the collar of Shen Bichuan’s opera costume was bulging slightly, as if something was hidden inside. He grabbed the fabric of Shen Bichuan’s costume, his strength so immense he nearly ripped the material to shreds.

Rip!

With a sharp tearing sound, the opera costume was violently pulled open, exposing the wound Shen Bichuan had wrapped using strips from the bed curtains. The cloth strips were tied in a hurried, messy fashion, and deep red blood had long soaked through them, seeping faintly through the gaps to form a dark, spreading stain of crimson on his fair skin. It was a horrifying sight.

Shen Bichuan did not dare to move, standing perfectly rigid as he let Qin Ye inspect his wound.

Looking at the piercing red on Shen Bichuan’s chest, Qin Ye closed his eyes briefly. Then, he raised his hand and delivered a sharp slap.

Smack!

Shen Bichuan’s head snapped to the side, the taste of blood instantly spreading throughout his mouth.

Qin Ye forcefully pinched Shen Bichuan’s chin, pulling the youth close to himself as he said in a freezing voice,

“You truly know how to be ruthless to yourself.”

Shen Bichuan tilted his head up to look at the man, his eyes bloodshot, yet entirely devoid of fear.

Qin Ye exerted more force into his grip, his handsome brows knitting into a tight knot.

“Shen Bichuan, why do you always defy me over and over again? Hmm?”

Shen Bichuan felt as though his jaw was about to be crushed into pieces, making him gasp for air in heavy pants.

“Qin Ye, didn’t you go to all the trouble of setting this trap just waiting for me to jump? You brought this on yourself.”

The moment those words left his mouth, he was violently hurled by Qin Ye onto a nearby tea table. Almost at the exact same time, the guards moved the standing screens to completely block the two of them from view.

Looking at the surrounding screens, Shen Bichuan lost his composure.

He leaned against the tea table, backing away step by step, while Qin Ye pressed forward with every single stride. It wasn’t until he had nowhere left to retreat that the man pinned his hands back, slamming him face-down against the tea table.

Shen Bichuan was struck with terror and struggled with all his might. But he was simply no match for Qin Ye at all. After a brief clash, his head was held down, and he was pinned ruthlessly beneath the man’s body.

Qin Ye leaned down, pressing right against Shen Bichuan’s ear as he spoke in a dark, ominous whisper.

“Bichuan, I have told you before. Your person belongs to me, and so does your body. Only I am allowed to damage it. You broke the rules, and breaking the rules means you must be punished.”

With his face pressed hard against the table, Shen Bichuan’s voice was muffled and slurred.

“Qin Ye, you can’t… you can’t do this here…”

Right then, a terrifying sound rang out—it was the metallic chiming of the Burmese bells.

Shen Bichuan’s face turned entirely bloodless. He struggled even more frantically, twisting his body wildly.

“Qin Ye, stop!”

As the chiming noise faded, Shen Bichuan’s voice was swallowed into his throat along with the sudden wave of intense pain. All that remained were broken, intermittent sobs and Qin Ye’s satisfied sighs.

Qin Ye buried himself in his dark pleasure, completely ignoring Shen Bichuan’s weeping pleas as he stubbornly forced his way.

Shen Bichuan lay helplessly on the table like a lily swaying violently in a fierce storm, passively enduring Qin Ye’s brutal torment until his vision went entirely black, and he knocked out cold…