Chapter 51

In this posture, the two were exceptionally close, their breaths intermingling; as the light shone down, it cast the shadow of eyelashes onto the skin beneath Ling Wu's eyelids.

Because the youth was tilting his head back, revealing a slender, beautiful neck, he offered up his vulnerable spot without reservation, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Ling Wu did not like this gesture of offering one's neck to be slaughtered, and made a move to push Jing Du away.

"Don't move."

Jing Du's low voice came from above, brooking no refusal and carrying a hint of warning; the hand he used to pinch Ling Wu's cheek tightened by two degrees.

Ling Wu reiterated: "Young Master Jing, you teach me, I will do it myself, no need to trouble you."

Ling Wu watched as Jing Du lowered his brow and eyes, holding that lipstick with his distinct, bony fingers and tracing it across his lips: "Alright, press them together."

He watched that beautiful, vivid red bloom on the youth's graceful lips, and as if bewitched, he spoke almost instinctively: "Ling Wu, you don't look like a Bodhisattva."

"You look like a demonic heretic."

Soul-stirring and heart-stealing.

【Clearly you've developed worldly desires yourself, yet you call others a demonic heretic.】

【Admit it, you are also fascinated by the beauty of the supporting male character.】

【Is this something I can watch without a VIP subscription?】

【The sexual tension between these two is maxed out.】

【The supporting male character's outfit is so good; I'm imagining a scenario where a cold and aloof Immortal Venerable is dragged off the altar by a wicked disciple—I admit I'm a bit perverted...】

Ling Wu gripped his wrist, breaking free from the shackles on his face: "Thank you, you can let go of me now."

He pushed his chair back, almost pressing against the vanity, then stood up and walked past Jing Du, his flowing robes inadvertently brushing against Jing Du's trouser legs and the back of his hand.

Like being brushed by a feather.

Jing Du frowned, dissatisfied with his attitude.

He yanked the person back in one motion.

"Boom!"

Clearly, he hadn't used much force, yet the youth was pulled so hard he fell onto the vanity, his lower back hitting the edge of the table heavily, sending the cosmetics on top rolling to the floor.

Ling Wu hissed in pain, his fingers turning white as he gripped the edge of the table, his lips slightly parted, physiological tears welling in his eyes as he hunched over slightly.

"Ling Wu, I..."

Jing Du paused, his tone subtle.

Ling Wu was leaning over the vanity, the bracelets on his wrists jingling; with one hand pressed against his bruised lower back, his body was tense, tracing a beautiful and powerful arc from his shoulders and neck to his back, his lean waistline, and his slightly upturned hips.

The stage play costume was flowing and ethereal, especially thin, wrapping tightly around his body to reveal a perfect waist-to-hip ratio.

Jing Du's gaze was scorched.

Within a few seconds, he returned to his calm and composed self, preparing to help him up.

"Don't touch me!" Ling Wu swiped his hand away, his eyes slightly red, his voice completely hoarse: "Young Master Jing, I will stay far away from you in the future. I know you hate me, but you don't have to bully people like this."

Jing Du stared at him.

As if surprised by the word "hate" that had slipped out of his mouth.

Back at Jingwan, Jing Du had viciously cursed Ling Wu's affection as disgusting, but when such words came out of his own mouth, Jing Du didn't like hearing them.

People are always double-standard and contradictory.

Jing Du met Ling Wu's gaze and saw the faint red pinch marks on both sides of his cheeks, only then feeling dazed that his series of actions just now had indeed been bullying.

"Ling Wu, your complexion doesn't look right." Jing Du furrowed his brows, his tone unconsciously tinged with worry: "Have you ever had a back injury before?"

Ling Wu said coldly: "No."

Jing Du: "You don't look like you haven't."

Ling Wu slowly straightened up, the pain in his lower back having already subsided.

"I'll take you to the school infirmary." Jing Du looked down at him, the pale light highlighting his expressionless face and sharp gaze, forcing one not to dare say "no."

Ling Wu seemed not to understand the refusal in his eyes: "No need to go to the school infirmary."

"I've already recovered."

He took a breath, still maintaining that good-tempered appearance: "Student Yang is still waiting for me over there... I'll head over now."

Jing Du narrowed his eyes and watched his back for a moment, then stepped forward in three or four strides, slammed the dressing room door shut with a "bang," and locked it.

"Ling Wu, what are you being stubborn with me for?"

Jing Du's tone was serious: "Do you know that if the lumbar spine is hit by external force, it can lead to fractures, dislocations, or a herniated disc?"

Ling Wu felt he was simply unreasonable.

Arbitrary and self-righteous.

Wanting it when he wants it, and discarding it when he doesn't.

Treating others as if they can be summoned at will and dismissed at whim.

Anger appeared on his face: "Isn't this caused by you?"

"I am an adult, an independent individual; I have the right to make my own decisions. When I say I don't want it, I don't want it. I don't need anyone to overstep their bounds and make decisions for me!"

Jing Du had never been spoken to in such a tone: "Who exactly is the unreasonable one?"

He pinned the person against the door, his tone grim.

"Ling Wu, tell me who is the unreasonable one? You sent me a love letter one moment, and the next you're hanging out with Huaiyu and the others."

"Is this how you show your affection for me?"

Jing Du's sense of oppression was extremely strong; he was usually cold and indifferent, appearing noble and aloof on the outside, but deep down he still carried the arrogance and rudeness of an aristocrat.

He was also the one who looked down on everyone and held himself above the dust.

Ling Wu met that furious gaze: "Then what else do you want?!"

"Jing Du, can you stop being so overbearing? When you didn't like me, you could unscrupulously call me disgusting, say I was cheap, and tell me to get lost. Now that I don't like you anymore and have really stayed away from you," Ling Wu said angrily, "can you stop coming over on your own initiative?"

By the end, the voice was hoarse and exhausted, even trembling slightly.

Violent, unwilling, cold... with these arguments, they seemed to dissipate into the air, yet also seemed to transform into invisible nets, densely woven to create an inescapable trap, snaring the nameless feelings that had taken root and sprouted in the depths of the heart.

Jing Du seemed to be suddenly awakened by his words, freezing in place like an ice sculpture.

That's right.

He finds the man's affection disgusting.

Then Ling Wu should also be disgusted by the same thing.

Why would he want to actively draw near?

Why, when seeing his profile outside the dressing room, was it like encountering a Pandora's Box that would bring misfortune, yet he could not compel his heart to resist the temptation?

It was also an unforeseeable consequence.

The spacious dressing room was silent, the blackout curtains drawn tight, and the light from the incandescent lamps converged into a torrent, crashing into the eyes of the two men.

Jing Du was stunned.

Ling Wu's eyes were full of spirit, just like a clear and limpid river of spring water; he was gentle, tolerant, and peaceful... looking both innocent and without sharp edges, never making things difficult for others, with a temper so good it seemed he would never get angry.

He even often kept "thank you" on his lips.

And now, this very person with such a good temper was flying into a thunderous rage at him, calling him overbearing, calling him arbitrary and dictatorial.