Encountering a Snake - Chapter 27

v2c27

 

Ji Jiu fell silent. His silence made Yi Mo suspect just how drunk he truly was. This person had always had a good tolerance for alcohol. Even though it was a forty-year-old aged brew, it shouldn’t have been so easy to knock him out.

 

However, in an instant, Ji Jiu lifted his head, breaking the brief silence, and asked, “How should I accompany you?” He stood up, staggered to the table, and grabbed a dagger, threatening with a fierce expression, “If it’s for the bed, then tonight I will castrate you.”

 

Yi Mo’s expression changed complexly, and he reminded, “It should be castrate.”

 

“You are a snake, all beasts and wild animals that aren’t human should be castrated,” Ji Jiu said, holding the dagger seriously, like an old scholar arguing with a disciple over a question.

 

Yi Mo was now certain that this person was truly drunk. To say such things, it was definitely the result of alcohol.

 

Ji Jiu, holding the dagger, was feeling dizzy from standing up too quickly. He looked at Yi Mo, and no matter how he looked, there seemed to be two of him, one on the left and one on the right. He swayed the dagger and said, “I think I drank too much.”

 

Yi Mo laughed and asked, “Why do you say that?”

 

Ji Jiu pointed to the left, then to the right, and said, “Now, there are two of you.”

 

Yi Mo walked over, grabbed his wrist, easily took away the swaying dagger, and removed the weapon before asking, “Now, how many do you see?”

 

Ji Jiu understood his words and leaned in to look carefully. However, his neck seemed unable to support his head. His head swayed, first to the left, then to the right.

 

Yi Mo cupped his face and asked, “How many?”

 

Ji Jiu tried hard to focus, his eyes misty, and stared at Yi Mo. He couldn’t see clearly, so he moved closer. When he still couldn’t see, he leaned in closer again. After he could finally see, he fell silent.

 

Yi Mo gazed at the enlarged face before him, with a tinge of blush, his slightly sluggish eyes, and the lingering scent of aged wine in his breath. It was as if in that moment, he was transported back to the days with Shen Qingxuan more than 150 years ago.

 

But Shen Qingxuan had never truly been drunk.

 

Ji Jiu was speaking. Although he was right in front of him, Yi Mo felt like his voice had passed through the cracks of time, across the distant Ice Age, through the banks of the Forgotten River, and only then softly entered his eardrum, vibrating it, sending his voice into Yi Mo’s heart, radiating a powerful tremor.

 

Ji Jiu said, “You… are beautiful.”

 

His voice was soft, with a slurred tone, the murmurs of a drunken man.

 

Yi Mo clearly heard the sound of his heart pounding, growing more frantic with every word Ji Jiu uttered. Almost instinctively, Yi Mo leaned forward slightly, his lips only a thin line away from Ji Jiu’s.

 

“Say it again.”

 

Ji Jiu looked at him, as if his rationality had been numbed by alcohol, and he became his puppet, repeating as Yi Mo wished: “You, are very beautiful…”

 

Before the last word had even finished floating in the air, Yi Mo finally seized his lips.

 

It was fierce, blind, intense, with a crazed, devouring passion. At the same time, there was an immense, aching grievance, flowing out from what seemed to be a cracked heart.

 

Ji Jiu stood still, as if unaware of what was happening to him, staring blankly into Yi Mo’s eyes.

 

Only when his lips became numb from being kissed did Ji Jiu blink.

 

Their lips parted, and they stared at each other, stunned.

 

Ji Jiu, hoarsely, said, “Call my name.”

 

Yi Mo paused, then said, “Ji Jiu.”

 

“Say it again.” Ji Jiu raised his voice.

 

“Ji Jiu.”

 

“Say it again!”

 

“Ji, Jiu—”

 

Ji Jiu grabbed his collar, pulling him close, and after pressing against him, he leaned in to bite his lip.

 

It was a bite.

 

With his clean and hard teeth, he bit into Yi Mo’s thin lips, as if to tear away his flesh and swallow it, to take the part that had called his name, clearly and precisely, and swallow it into his stomach.

 

As if, by doing so, he could be saved.

 

Yi Mo reached out to embrace him, holding this body that was radiating high heat, as if ready to catch fire at any moment, tighter. Their lips and tongues entwined, even tighter than their bodies. They curled around each other, not letting go, fervently sucking, biting, as liquid flowed from their mouths, swallowed and urgently craved to continue. Like two fish trapped in a dried-up pond, surviving off each other’s saliva, because they had nowhere to run.

 

Human-made fine wines could never get Yi Mo drunk.

 

Yet Yi Mo clearly felt dizzy, as if he were the drunk one. His body was in the mortal world, but his soul had already stepped onto the clouds. He knew the arm wrapped around his side was strong, firm, and powerful, surrounding him in a posture of need and desire, holding him tightly, trapping him, like iron arms, but without pain. Yi Mo reciprocated with a tighter grip, both adjusting their positions, unwilling to part, desiring to get even closer, to merge into one, without death, without disappearance, without seeking, and thus no struggle.

 

They knocked over the wooden table, shattered the wine jars, and even the table was overturned. Documents and ink spilled everywhere. The once pristine white paper became fragments, scattered in disarray, flying up and falling down, chaotic. They rolled through the mess.

 

Ji Jiu tore at his robe, and when Yi Mo also tore at his own, he grabbed Yi Mo’s wrist, fixing it upwards.

 

Their glued lips didn’t separate. They opened their eyes once more, staring at each other, facing off.

 

One was drunk, the other sober. Perhaps, they were both drunk.

 

Knowing what would happen, Yi Mo said nothing, and didn’t withdraw his restrained hands.

 

Ji Jiu spread his knees apart with one hand, positioning himself between them, both of them now fully exposed.

 

Their burning bodies did not hesitate to cover the cold one below. In that instant, it was like ice and fire clashing, a thousand-year-old glacier being melted into water and then wrapped in scalding lava, turning into blinding red. It was as if a great wound had been torn in the chaotic world, yet they both simultaneously let out a satisfied sigh.

 

Ji Jiu loosened his grip on Yi Mo, his hands moving down to hold Yi Mo’s waist, then spread his hips apart.

 

Leaning down, his scarred lips pressed against Yi Mo’s similarly bloodstained lips, Ji Jiu repeated, “Call my name.”

 

“Ji Jiu.”

 

“Not enough.”

 

“Ji Jiu.”

 

“Still not enough.”

 

— Ji Jiu.

 

— Ji Jiu!

 

— Ji Jiu!

 

Yi Mo repeated his last name, his first name, over and over. By the end, his cries were frantic.

 

The aching in his heart flowed out with his cries, like a severed wound, guiding out the black and purple blood inside.

 

The corners of Ji Jiu’s eyes grew wet with his voice, and he slowly pushed deeper, inch by inch, until he was fully and completely inside. Ji Jiu paused, lifting his waist slightly, then slammed back in.

 

A water droplet “plopped” and fell, landing on Yi Mo’s eyelid. Before he could fully see, another droplet fell, sliding across the silver light, landing on his lips. Yi Mo licked it, the salty bitterness spreading on his taste buds, followed by the fourth, the fifth… That salty bitterness completely overwhelmed him.

 

When all the movements finally stopped, Ji Jiu rested his forehead against Yi Mo’s. The droplets silently dried.

 

They stayed like that, heads together, noses touching, lips pressed against each other. Then, they remained motionless, quietly holding each other, like two wounded little animals, sticking together for warmth.

 

Even though they both knew the wounds were caused by the other, neither pushed away.

 

“Leave tomorrow?” After a long time, Ji Jiu spoke, his voice still hoarse.

 

“Mm.”

 

“No need to send me off.”

 

“Alright.”

 

The two of them remained silent. Yi Mo turned over, pulling him into his embrace and positioning him beneath him. Ji Jiu said nothing.

 

Yi Mo spread his body open, then lowered his head, biting his lip, moving down, biting along the sharp jawline, over the prominent Adam’s apple, and onto his collarbone.

 

Ji Jiu held onto him, occasionally running his fingers through his hair, until his body was fully opened, entered, and filled. The sensation was almost unbearable, and he shivered slightly, feeling a bit stiff.

 

Yi Mo noticed his stiffness and paused, kissing his face softly, murmuring, “Relax, it’s okay.”

 

Ji Jiu gritted his teeth, and after a long while, he overcame the lingering fear and instinctive resistance towards this kind of thing and embraced him tightly again.

 

Yi Mo stayed still, not moving. Ji Jiu took a deep breath and lifted his leg, wrapping it around his waist. Only then did Yi Mo understand, beginning to move slowly.

 

“Yi Mo,” Ji Jiu asked quietly in the middle, “You knew what would happen, but still sought this out. Did you really never think about how to face it and solve it?”

 

Yi Mo bit his earlobe and replied, “I thought about it. But I don’t know how to solve it.”

 

Ji Jiu avoided the teasing on his ear and said, “No, you don’t know what you want.”

 

Ji Jiu continued, “You want Shen Qingxuan, don’t you?”

 

Yi Mo paused for a moment, then quickly answered, “Yes.”

 

“No,” Ji Jiu said. “You still don’t know what you want.”

 

Yi Mo did not argue with him, but lifted his hips and thrust deeply into him. Ji Jiu almost cried out but bit down on his teeth, stifling the sound. Though no sound escaped, his hips trembled uncontrollably, and Ji Jiu panted softly, sinking his teeth into Yi Mo’s neck.

 

“You don’t accept it?” After releasing his grip, Ji Jiu panted and whispered in his ear, “You want to be with Shen Qingxuan. When he dies, you should follow him. Now you say you want him by your side, but you should do anything to keep him. But you chose neither.”

 

“Bind?” Yi Mo paused for a moment.

 

Ji Jiu said, “You asked me if there are other ways. There is actually a way.”

 

“What?” Yi Mo asked.

 

Ji Jiu smiled faintly, pulling his head down, his lips brushing over his, speaking softly, “If I were you…”

 

—If I were you, and you were me, then the first time we met, I wouldn’t have violated you.

 

—I would take you away. If you didn’t go, I would bind you and take you.

 

—I would imprison you, take care of you day and night, spoil you, indulge you in everything, but you must stay with me.

 

—Then I would make your family believe you’re dead, erasing your existence from this world.

 

—Finally, I would leave you with nowhere to go, cutting off all thoughts, so you could only rely on me, trust me. Become my Shen Qingxuan.

 

—I wouldn’t even need to tell you that there was once a Shen Qingxuan.

 

—But you can only be my Shen Qingxuan. There’s no way out.

 

Ji Jiu released him, rubbing his aching head, and returned to silence.

 

Yi Mo said, “Then what about you?”

 

Ji Jiu answered, “Me? Bind me? I would die in front of you, because I already know there’s another Shen Qingxuan in this world.”

 

“Then what you said is useless,” Yi Mo remarked.

 

“Idiot,” Ji Jiu sneered, “It doesn’t matter to Ji Jiu, but does it not matter to the next Chen Qingxuan or Li Qingxuan?”

 

Yi Mo thought for a moment and said, “What if it doesn’t work?”

 

Ji Jiu sat up, looking at him with an almost incredulous expression. “Are you an idiot? In this game, whether you win or lose, you don’t lose anything. If you lose, Shen Qingxuan could be just one of the hundreds of reincarnations. If you win, you gain decades of happiness. Why not gamble?! Why wouldn’t it work?!”

 

Though he had long understood Yi Mo’s nature, seeing how crazed he was even for his own reincarnation still stunned Yi Mo. He couldn’t help but ask, “When his reincarnation dies, is that how it ends?”

 

Ji Jiu was stunned for a moment, then suddenly laughed. He patted Yi Mo’s shoulder and said, “Don’t joke. What you want is Shen Qingxuan. When you decided to seek his past life in his reincarnation, that reincarnation already lost its meaning. As long as he doesn’t become your Shen Qingxuan, whether he lives or dies, what does it matter to you?”

 

Ji Jiu spoke lightly, but his eyes darkened, filled with sorrow.

 

After a moment, Ji Jiu said, “So, I said you don’t know what you want. If you really made up your mind, with your strength, what couldn’t you achieve? If you truly knew what you wanted, you would plan and execute it decisively. But you haven’t. You also haven’t let go and focused on cultivating immortality. Instead, you’ve lost yourself in this mortal world until today. Yi Mo, your search is blind, with no clear purpose and no idea where the way out is.”

 

“Tomorrow, you need to leave. Let me give you a way. Cultivate immortality, leave this mortal world. Or seek, create your own Shen Qingxuan.” He paused, then continued, “You can also choose to die, and you won’t have to be troubled anymore.”

 

Yi Mo looked at him, unable to resist. He lowered his head, kissing Ji Jiu’s lips, his tongue tracing the bite marks and blood on Ji Jiu’s lips. He asked in a soft murmur, “Do you like me?”

 

Ji Jiu’s face flushed as he looked at him, then after a long while said, “Does it matter to you?”

 

Yi Mo stared at him for a long time, giving the same answer, “I don’t know.”

 

Ji Jiu smiled faintly, then lay back down, his leg returning to Yi Mo’s waist. He said no more. Yi Mo, buried deep inside him, slowly pulled out, only to thrust back in after a slight withdrawal. Ji Jiu inhaled sharply, his face unreadable, neither in pleasure nor pain, but Yi Mo knew his body enjoyed it. No longer holding back, he moved his hips again and again, causing the tightness to open up, the initial stiffness to soften, the dryness to turn wet, and the body that had never responded to him began to respond.

 

Yi Mo flipped him over, pressing him down onto the bed, holding his waist tightly, plunging back into him. Ji Jiu refused to make a sound, but his breathing grew more rapid, his body flushing red. Occasionally, when Yi Mo became too rough, he couldn’t help but let out a slight noise, quickly swallowing it back, his face full of struggle.

 

Finally, they were nearing the peak. Ji Jiu couldn’t hold back anymore. He grabbed Yi Mo’s arm and pulled him closer.

 

It was as if he wanted Yi Mo to hold him.

 

Yi Mo’s body slightly froze at this action.

 

At that moment, the image of that person biting his lip, enduring again and again, finally couldn’t hold back, grabbing his arm and calling out: “Hold me.”

 

—Yi Mo, hold me.

 

The voice from the past suddenly echoed in his mind. He knew it was an illusion, knew it shouldn’t be, knew it couldn’t be, but still, inexplicably, Yi Mo bent down and held him close, hearing his own voice amidst the labored breaths, saying, “Shen Qingxuan.”

 

The body in his arms stiffened instantly, and even the sound of breathing disappeared. The warmth he had generated began to fade, like a corpse cooling. And within that “corpse,” at the moment that name appeared, Yi Mo released his essence.

 

Ji Jiu lay on the bed, motionless, waiting for him to finish, waiting for him to pull out, waiting for him to hold him up, but unable to say a word.

 

Yi Mo couldn’t say anything either.

 

Ji Jiu said nothing.

 

Because Ji Jiu knew, he had already died.

 

Yi Mo finally decided to kill Ji Jiu and scatter his ashes.

 

Ji Jiu closed his eyes; he was liberated.