Becoming Puppet Emperor of a Paranoid Eunuch - Chapter 82

“Then… I don’t understand. Teach me,” Wu Jing quietly requested, testing the waters.

Ning Qinghong smiled, “Aren’t you tired?”

Wu Jing tugged at Ning Qinghong’s sleeve and said seriously, “The other students in my dorm said that tomorrow is a holiday, so we don’t have to attend the academy.” He looked up, “I can sleep in a little longer tomorrow.”

Ning Qinghong asked again, “But you haven’t done what you promised to do today.”

Wu Jing earnestly assured, “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Ning Qinghong sighed slightly and guided Wu Jing to sit by the desk.

Wrapped in a crane cloak, Wu Jing, sitting in Ning Qinghong’s lap, quickly warmed up since he had only been wearing a thin garment due to his pretense of getting up in the middle of the night.

Ning Qinghong asked, “What don’t you understand?”

He tilted his head, his long black hair cascading down, and asked softly.

Wu Jing, feeling a bit embarrassed, held the medical book he had been caught with and pointed to lines of text, asking, “Here, and here, and here too.”

Ning Qinghong read out the unfamiliar characters one by one. He didn’t explain what kind of medical book it was, what the cover said, or what the obscure sentences meant. He simply watched the youth in his arms as he struggled to make sense of the text.

Ning Qinghong leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper, “If you don’t understand, why do you keep looking?”

Wu Jing’s ears turned red, and he tried to shy away.

He knew this question was coming, but he hadn’t figured out how to answer it.

“I just… wanted to take a look.”

He stuttered, trying to cover up his true feelings.

He didn’t even know why he was trying to cover up.

Ning Qinghong laughed softly, “Really?”

His breath was warm and gentle on Wu Jing’s ear.

Wu Jing stammered, “N-no.” As he came to his senses, he hurriedly added, “I-I—”

Ning Qinghong said, “Hmm?”

Wu Jing lowered his head, “I was lying.” He was gripping the pen so tightly his hands were sweating, his eyelids trembling as he squeezed out the words, “I wanted to help you.”

“Even though I don’t understand, and even if understanding it might not be useful, I just wanted to try.”

“What if it might help?”

His tone was a mix of frustration and shyness at having to reveal his thoughts, “You’ve been so good to me, I want to be good to you too.”

After Wu Jing finished speaking, he didn’t receive a response. Not knowing why Ning Qinghong was silent, he instinctively turned to look and found himself face to face with Ning Qinghong’s gaze, almost close enough to kiss.

In the dim light, their expressions were hard to read.

Because they were so close, their lips nearly touched, and the warmth of their breath made Wu Jing’s cheeks flush even more.

He froze, unable to move.

Ning Qinghong said, “Then Wu Wu might need to read a lot of medical books.”

Wu Jing replied blankly, “I can read them.”

Ning Qinghong smiled, “No need to make it so complicated.” He said slowly, “When I’m in a good mood, I naturally fall ill less.”

In a good mood? How could he make the other person feel better?

Wu Jing felt confused, his head spinning.

As Ning Qinghong’s eyes half-closed, about to lean in, Wu Jing instinctively tilted his face up and gave a gentle kiss.

It was out of habit, but the warmth of their breath made it even more intense.

Wu Jing’s eyes nearly filled with tears of embarrassment. After the kiss, he didn’t dare to move, and heard Ning Qinghong’s low laughter, which made him blush even more.

But Ning Qinghong didn’t move at all.

Unable to hold back, Wu Jing stammered, “How… how can I make your mood better?” He mumbled with his warm lips against Ning Qinghong’s, “I—I kissed you.”

He then turned to embrace Ning Qinghong, trembling as he wrapped his arms around his neck, “Is… is this good?”

He was overwhelmed with shyness, almost making him cry.

Only when Wu Jing was on the verge of tears did Ning Qinghong gently return the kiss, “Wu Wu is so good.”

Despite his extreme fatigue, he preferred not to sleep and had sneaked out in the middle of the night to read the obscure medical book, even though he couldn’t understand it.

He tried to trust and believe in his clumsy way, pressing his warm body close.

Ning Qinghong’s kiss was tender, limited to Wu Jing’s lips and eyes. Wu Jing, though growing weaker, couldn’t stop wanting to hold him.

He climbed onto a chair, kneeling on Ning Qinghong’s lap, breathing in small breaths and trying to kiss him.

When Ning Qinghong stopped, Wu Jing was still dazed, breathing with a faint sob, and his vision blurry as he tried to lick.

He heard Ning Qinghong ask, “What else can Wu Wu do for me?”

It was said with a smile.

Wu Jing was stunned, struggling with his emotions, “I-I don’t know.”

Ning Qinghong didn’t let him lick his lips and turned his face away, instead gently touching the side of Wu Jing’s ear with his lips, providing a slight ticklish sensation that maintained the emotional intimacy.

Wu Jing tried to follow the kisses but was met with Ning Qinghong’s continued turned face. “Wu Wu needs to think for himself.”

Tears fell from the youth’s eyes, “I really don’t know.”

Ning Qinghong, with a half-smile, said, “How about Wu Wu finishes what wasn’t completed last time?”

Last time? What was left unfinished?

Wu Jing’s mind was a muddle as he tried to recall, but he couldn’t remember anything.

Ning Qinghong gently reminded, “Last time you ran away, so this time you might not.”

Following his words, Wu Jing’s face flushed deeply, and his breathing became sticky.

He felt hot all over, almost wanting to curl up like last time, but there was something different this time—perhaps because Ning Qinghong was soothing him, kissing him, speaking softly, and looking at him with such tenderness.

The same request seemed somehow less embarrassing.

The almost imperceptible tingling in his ear was relentless, making him want more kisses or more intense ones.

Wu Jing was overwhelmed with discomfort and started crying again, tears streaming down as he looked completely distressed.

After sitting there dazedly for a while, he finally closed his eyes with trembling breaths that revealed his crying.

He mounted Ning Qinghong’s hand, which was half-resting on the armrest of the grand chair, and sat fully on his arm. Although he didn’t dare to sit down completely, he was still soft and fleshly.

Supporting himself on Ning Qinghong’s shoulder, he knelt between his legs.

Wu Jing stuttered, “How, how—” but couldn’t articulate the word.

The moment of contact was comforting, but his legs were so weak he couldn’t hold the position, and the more he pressed, the more intense his tears became.

His experience was minimal, with only a few instances taught by Ning Qinghong.

Wu Jing’s face was wet with tears, his arm clamped tightly as if he were in a half-dream, pressing his legs as if in a half-sleep. Just the pressure alone was unbearable.

Not to mention the actions.

Ning Qinghong only guided him to rub a few times.

Wu Jing relaxed completely, his body going limp and sliding down into Ning Qinghong’s hand, the pressure of gravity pushing down in that instant.

With Ning Qinghong kissing him, Wu Jing’s lips parted slightly, emitting muffled cries that were quickly stifled by the kiss, unable to even breathe.

When Ning Qinghong withdrew his hand, Wu Jing immediately cried out helplessly, trembling and weakly trying to hold onto Ning Qinghong’s hand, shaking his head in despair, pleading for him to stop.

Ning Qinghong paused, waiting patiently for Wu Jing to finish.

Wu Jing, eyes closed and disoriented, reached up to cover Ning Qinghong’s eyes, unable to bear being looked at while he was so disoriented.

With this movement, he could no longer maintain his position.

Completely soft against Ning Qinghong, he embraced his neck and made small sobbing noises.

It was comforting, whether from the kisses or the embrace.

But it wasn’t as intensely distressing as before.

He simply cried mechanically, overwhelmed yet wholly in tune with his own feelings, because he had initiated it himself.

But… it still seemed somehow insufficient.

Compared to before, it was incomparable, leaving him even more disoriented afterwards, though not unbearable.

Wu Jing could only hold Ning Qinghong tighter, not daring to express it. He clumsily used this method to bury himself in his embrace, hugging tightly with his arms, lost in the comfort of the embrace to fill the void.

He unconsciously cried and murmured, “Brother.”

Without realizing it, he was calling Ning Qinghong, feeling as if he was completely bewildered.