Becoming Puppet Emperor of a Paranoid Eunuch - Chapter 97

Ning Qinghong remained silent for a moment, his eyes slightly lowered, looking quietly at the young man in front of him.

 

Wu Jing stared back at him, confused, for a few moments.

 

The distance between them was so close that they could feel each other’s breath, their noses almost touching, with their breaths mingling slowly and warmly in the tiny space between them.

 

Only Wu Jing’s breath was hot.

 

Ning Qinghong slightly turned his face, his eyes half-closed with weariness, as if he was about to say something.

 

Wu Jing nervously held his breath, unable to move, his small nose dumbly pressed against Ning Qinghong’s, listening as he spoke.

 

“There are nearly a thousand officials in the previous dynasty, but only a few hundred hold real power. The rest merely collect their salaries and manage their own affairs.”

 

“These people usually have nothing important to report, and the memorials they submit every day are mostly trivial matters.”

 

“Some are just a few pleasant words of greeting, others are complaints about colleagues they dislike, none of which are worthy of serious attention.”

 

“The cabinet usually doesn’t waste their time reviewing these, just a glance is enough, no need to bother.”

 

When Ning Qinghong is in the mood, he might write a brief “Reviewed,” but most of the time, the memorials are returned exactly as they were received, unchanged.

 

Ning Qinghong quietly instructed, “Wu Wu must learn to prioritize and handle matters with a sense of urgency.” He spoke each word clearly, “Sitting in this position is not about burdening oneself with troubles or adding unnecessary toil.”

 

“It’s about learning how to manipulate and use others.” He paused, his voice very soft, “Indulge in extreme extravagance.”

 

Although Ning Qinghong appeared tired, every day after the morning court session, he would spend half an hour or an hour at a smaller court meeting. If the state affairs were not pressing, he could handle these memorials in an hour; if there were significant matters, it would take no more than an additional half-hour.

 

From the afternoon until bedtime, he had nothing to do but listen to secret reports for a quarter of an hour, and the day would pass.

 

Even when he was ill, he wouldn’t bother with state affairs, as the cabinet members would handle everything. He only needed to spend half an hour checking if matters were properly dealt with and correcting any mistakes, then there was nothing more to do.

 

It was truly a leisurely life.

 

Wu Jing nodded dumbly, his nose almost bumping into Ning Qinghong’s thin lips. It was only in a daze that he realized he hadn’t absorbed a single word Ning Qinghong had just said.

 

He really couldn’t understand how anyone could talk about such serious matters so calmly, with their eyes half-closed, when they were this close.

 

Not paying attention to him at all.

 

Wu Jing looked at him with a mix of grievance and suspicion, “Don’t talk about those things, I don’t want to hear that.”

 

He leaned in even closer, looking up at Ning Qinghong eagerly.

 

Finally, Ning Qinghong turned his face slightly back towards him, laughing softly as he asked in a near whisper, “Then what does Wu Wu want to do?”

 

Wu Jing felt something was off, and instinctively tried to explain, “What do I… want to do? I just…”

 

He only wanted to talk for a bit.

 

Avoiding the question and changing the subject—he must be feeling guilty!

 

He couldn’t let himself be distracted by a few words again!

 

Ning Qinghong lightly murmured, “Hmm?”

 

Wu Jing stammered, following his lead, “I want… I want to do, no, that’s not—”

 

Ning Qinghong’s smile deepened, “Wu Wu doesn’t want to look at the memorials, says he doesn’t understand them. I explain them, and you don’t listen.” He paused, “If you don’t want to learn…”

 

The end of his sentence trailed off.

 

Because at that moment, Ning Qinghong, who had been whispering close to his ear, kissed him softly with his thin lips.

 

A buzzing filled Wu Jing’s ears, his mind going blank. Before he could react, Ning Qinghong gently cupped the back of his head and leaned in, closing his eyes as he kissed him quietly.

 

He kissed him.

 

So that must mean…

 

He was right?

 

Wu Jing was kissed tenderly for a long time, his mind turning into a foggy mess.

 

Ning Qinghong’s posture was completely relaxed and at ease, merely holding him and kissing him softly, no different from simply holding him and gently caressing his back.

 

There was no hint of desire.

 

Yet it was exceptionally tender. This gentleness wasn’t born out of habit or a lack of energy due to illness; it was purely for the young man in his arms.

 

But Wu Jing was completely unaware. It was as if he was facing a great web that had withdrawn all its poisonous threads for him. Once entangled, he only felt the comfort and safety of being wrapped up.

 

He sensed no danger at all.

 

It was as if a sharp blade had sheathed all its edges, resting gently against his neck, and Wu Jing, oblivious, rubbed his cheek against the sharp blade, comforted by the coolness of the steel.

 

Because his entire body was burning up.

 

His nose was filled with the subtle scent of the person in front of him, and Wu Jing, struggling to breathe, made small, incoherent noises—not crying, not shedding tears.

 

It was purely out of comfort, his voice indistinct and small, mingled with his labored breathing.

 

It felt so good.

 

Wu Jing, like someone drunk, had a face flushed with red, his soft cheeks warm as he leaned weakly against Ning Qinghong. During the pauses in their kiss, he instinctively murmured, his voice weak and breathy… like a cat in heat.

 

Unsatisfied, yet satisfied.

 

Ning Qinghong kissed him for a long time before finally pulling away when he felt Wu Jing squirming against him. As they parted, a thin strand of saliva still connected their lips. But Ning Qinghong’s voice was cold, “Kneel.”

 

Wu Jing, still chasing after his lips, leaned in again, pressing his mouth against his and rubbing against him for a while before, dazed, he followed the pressure of Ning Qinghong’s hand on his thigh. He knelt up, lowering his head and looking at him with hazy eyes.

 

The young man’s lips were moist, and he complained softly, “What are you doing?”

 

Ning Qinghong lifted his fingertips, turned his face, and reached for the wooden box on the nearby table. He effortlessly retrieved a jade box, a cloth bag, and two sticks of varying sizes.

 

Wu Jing immediately fell silent, not daring to speak.

 

Ning Qinghong supported the back of the young man’s head, pushing him down but not allowing him to collapse against him, making Wu Jing kneel on the seat of the chair.

 

He then leaned over and kissed him slowly and quietly.

 

Wu Jing’s nervousness gradually melted away with the kiss, and he dared to release his held breath, hearing Ning Qinghong ask softly between kisses, “As mentioned last night, you need to be nourished for an hour before sleep every day. Would you like to do it yourself, or should I do it?”

 

Wu Jing merely fluttered his eyelids, his ears and face flushed, neither crying nor making a fuss, clumsily trying to undo his clothes with his fingertips.

 

The outer robe fell off his arm, and he worked on the inner garment for a while, his face slightly turned away in frustration, “I can’t undo it, so don’t kiss anymore.”

 

“Wait a moment.”

 

Ning Qinghong chuckled softly, then began to gently knead the back of Wu Jing’s neck with his fingers. “Alright, I won’t kiss anymore.”

 

So embarrassing.

 

Wu Jing buried his head.

 

He exhaled hot air, kicked off his shoes and socks, and removed his silk snow pants. When Ning Qinghong’s thin lips touched his ear and neck, he shivered instinctively, lifting his face, unable to see what was happening below.

 

He could only feel the warm traces of the medicinal ointment.

 

Warm, long fingers pressed in, and Ning Qinghong’s lips kissed the back of Wu Jing’s ear and neck. It wasn’t so much a kiss as a gentle touch, soothing him and continuing to explore.

 

Wu Jing never imagined he would use his hands himself. He tensed up instinctively, his body squeezed in but held tenderly, his neck being kneaded and kissed from his ear to the connection with his face.

 

Even though the discomfort made tears well up in his eyes, he remained pressed tightly against Ning Qinghong, breathing heavily, obediently making small, whimpering sounds, feeling the clear touch he could almost visualize in his mind.

 

After withdrawing his hand, Ning Qinghong replaced it with jade, starting with a width of one finger, then slowly increasing to two fingers, and finally to three.

 

He released his grip only when the correct spot was reached.

 

The life gate was accurately aligned.

 

Wu Jing dared not move.

 

The young man, enduring the soreness, leaned weakly on Ning Qinghong’s shoulder and started to cry, though not frequently, as he began to adapt.

 

Ning Qinghong whispered close to his ear, “Sit down.”

 

Wu Jing could only shake his head, unable to say a word. In the next moment, he was gently but firmly pressed down, sitting solidly on Ning Qinghong’s lap.

 

A sob escaped him immediately.

 

But the next moment, his lips were covered by Ning Qinghong’s. Wu Jing, with his lips slightly parted, exhaled as he was kissed. Gradually, he relaxed completely from the kiss.

 

He didn’t even notice when Ning Qinghong released his lips, only realizing when Ning Qinghong kissed down his exposed neck, reaching his throat, an unfamiliar sensation that jolted Wu Jing back to awareness.

 

This was the first time Ning Qinghong had kissed him elsewhere other than his face and lips.

 

For the first time, it spread down from his neck.

 

Wu Jing breathed dazedly, but in the next moment, he arched his back and cried out, “No, don’t bite.”

 

Ning Qinghong’s lips lightly touched him, almost ignoring his plea, as his fingers gently explored the young man’s soft belly, finding the slightly protruding area and cruelly pressing down.

 

Wu Jing’s body slackened suddenly, collapsing onto Ning Qinghong, his body tensing and trembling, neck arched high, his cries becoming hoarse.

 

He could only stick out his tongue, gasping for air.

 

How could he be so excessive?

 

Wu Jing’s tears flowed uncontrollably.

 

Ning Qinghong’s lips remained pressed against him, continuing to rub a little longer before speaking softly, “Wu Wu is so good at making his brother happy.” He said, “Even knows where his brother is unhappy.”

 

“But just a few words won’t do. How about trying harder?” He said gently with a faint smile, “Lift up a bit more, hmm?”