Encountering a Snake - Chapter 7

V2C7

Shen Jue walked out of the training ground, following the squad leader without saying a word. He understood in his heart that compared to these ordinary mortals, he had too many advantages—enough to stand out among these unknown soldiers and attract the attention of others. In just a month, several vice generals had already expressed their desire to recruit him. However, the gaze he wanted to attract had never stopped on him. Father. Shen Jue silently called out in his heart, a simple title, with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, and then gently uttered that sound. Although they were not blood-related, he had never forgotten. It was he who raised him, restraining his unruliness with both strictness and kindness. He would hold him in his arms, clasp his hand, and press his cheek against his. Each stroke was a depiction of mountains and rivers. Regardless of whether his painting was good or bad, all those brushstrokes were collected, never abandoned. Though an orphan, growing up in a complicated family without a mother, no one dared to wrong him; only that not-so-strong man held up the sky above him, not even willing to let a little gloom touch him. When calling him father, he never realized that in such a home, he was not also a mother. And his father, Yi Mo, was cold in nature; even when softened, he still had edges that evoked involuntary distance and fear. It was through him that he gradually came to understand that his father was not entirely cold. Though he was not good at expressing himself, he always cared.

But in this life, he could no longer call him father.

Shen Jue stood outside the tent, waiting for the guards to announce him before walking in. He respectfully bowed and said, “General.”

Ji Jiu turned his face to look at him for a moment and spoke straightforwardly, “Are you willing to serve under me?”

Shen Jue was stunned for a moment and immediately replied, “Of course.”

His reply was too eager, causing Ji Jiu to unconsciously narrow his eyes while observing him.

Shen Jue instantly realized that something was amiss. Although he didn’t know why, his father seemed to suspect him. That squinting action, once exhibited by his father in a past life, meant he was plotting something. Shen Jue felt a mix of wanting to cry and fear at that fox-like narrowing of eyes. Over a hundred years ago, he was terrified of that expression, and whenever Shen Qingxuan showed it, the next moment he would suffer.

A hundred years apart, Little Bao also knew he was much older than the Ji Jiu before him, yet he couldn’t understand why his awe had not diminished in the slightest.

Sure enough, Ji Jiu paced around, narrowing his eyes as he approached him, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. He said lightly, “I know many generals and vice generals want to recruit you. Why do you choose to serve me instead of them?” The last sentence rose in tone, feigning a teasing manner.

Shen Jue felt a chill run down his spine, unable to stop himself from taking two steps back. Regaining his composure, he found an excuse and said, “Without the general, there would be no Shen Jue in the army.”

Ji Jiu did have doubts; the first thought that crossed his mind was that this young man had been placed here as a spy by someone else. Yet, he was reluctant to believe it, as such an outstanding talent was truly rare. After hesitating for a moment, he decided to trust his explanation and quickly said, “Since that’s the case, then stay.” After a slight pause, he added, “Are you willing to be my guard?”

Shen Jue had no ambitions for fame and fortune, but after being frightened by Ji Jiu last time, he took a moment before answering, “I will follow the general’s orders.”

Ji Jiu was satisfied and patted his shoulder.

Shen Jue breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped outside. Standing in the sunlight after leaving the military tent, he realized his back was already covered in sweat. He couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly; his father’s authority hadn’t diminished over the years. If he was this nervous, how could his father manage the situation with a wife and children as General Ji? Such a man, who had remained unchanged from past life to present, was a smiling fox.

What he didn’t know was that Ji Jiu immediately began investigating his background. The background was secondary; the key was whether he had ever been used by someone else. The answer was no.

Only after getting the answer did Ji Jiu completely relax. Later on, someone in the army approached him, saying that keeping such an outstanding young man as a guard was wasting talent. Ji Jiu then promoted Shen Jue, but that’s another story, which we will set aside for now.

As Shen Jue became a personal guard, he was closer to Ji Jiu. Occasionally, they would converse, but it was always Ji Jiu asking questions and Shen Jue answering. Ji Jiu asked him, “Jue means double jade; did your father say which pair of jade it was?”

Shen Jue thought for a moment and said, “My father didn’t say.”

Ji Jiu couldn’t discern the difference between “father” and “dad,” so he asked, “What did your dad say?”

“My dad doesn’t say,” Shen Jue looked at his face, paused for a moment, and then said, “The general can call me Little Bao.”

“Little Bao?” Ji Jiu looked at the young man with thick brows and big eyes and couldn’t help but laugh, “Is that your childhood name?” He could almost imagine how this kid looked when he was young, with a round face.

“Yes,” Shen Jue said, “The general can call me by my childhood name.”

He spoke frankly, but Ji Jiu hesitated for a moment and then said after a while, “You’ve already come of age; how can you still use your childhood name? That name is something only the elders at home can call you. Even though you are my subordinate, we don’t have that kind of relationship. It’s better not to call it.”

Ji Jiu’s reasoning was sound, but he clearly saw a hint of disappointment slide across the young man’s face at the end of his words. For no reason, Ji Jiu felt a slight stirring in his heart. Although he didn’t know why Shen Jue was disappointed, he could distinctly sense that this person regarded him as a relative. Moreover, he had once mentioned that he was an orphan and had been adopted by someone. Just like that, Ji Jiu felt a flicker of pity in his heart, and his gaze toward Shen Jue softened as if he were looking at his own child.

Ji Jiu said, “It’s late; you should go. I need to rest.”

Though his heart had softened, he ultimately did not fulfill Shen Jue’s wish.

Shen Jue felt a moment of loss but quickly recovered. He knew that there would be plenty of time in the future; it couldn’t be rushed.

As soon as Ji Jiu lay down, the demon arrived again, standing by the bed for a moment before climbing onto the mattress. As always, he first embraced Ji Jiu, holding him for a while before beginning his actions. Ji Jiu knew he shouldn’t act rashly; after all, the other party was a demon with profound magical powers. How could a mere mortal like him be a match? But with murderous intent rising, it became difficult to hold back.

His heart surged with killing intent, seeking death and destruction!

His fingers slowly moved under the blanket, gradually approaching the edge of the mattress. Just then, the person on him suddenly halted. Ji Jiu was startled, thinking he had sensed something, but unexpectedly, someone rushed in from outside, entering hurriedly and shouting, “General!”

It was Shen Jue.

Shen Jue had been guarding outside the tent. Hearing the sounds inside, he thought something was amiss and rushed in without thinking. However, he was taken aback to see under the light of an oil lamp, his father was on top of his dad. Though the blanket covered them, the shape raised under it was enough to reveal what was happening without any need for imagination. He instantly froze, his face turning red.

Ji Jiu turned his head, his face also flushed with anger as he shouted, “Get out!”

Shen Jue hurriedly turned around and rushed out, his mind a tangled mess, unsure of what to do. He had seen such things before; when he was little, just a year old, Shen Qingxuan had taken him along, sometimes turning the room upside down with Yi Mo while one-year-old Shen Jue slept in a small cradle beside the bed. Even at that age, he had memories because he was born of a wolf mother. Shen Qingxuan was unaware, so through the tent’s curtain, one-year-old Shen Jue could see the scene clearly. Later, as he grew more aware, he realized this was something he shouldn’t watch, so he hid and no longer looked.

In truth, he didn’t think it was anything extraordinary; the more they were close, the better their relationship. A family of three, all men, was no less happy than those ordinary families.

Now that the two were doing this again, Shen Jue’s first thought was actually one of relief. Then he suddenly stopped, realizing something was off—it shouldn’t be like this.

If his father knew about the past and was willing to be with his father, how could he not know him? If they were truly in love, why was his father in such a passive position, and the atmosphere so heavy? Shen Jue knew his own father well; if he really wished for it, just calling out would have been enough to make anyone blush.

If he truly wished for it… when he barged in just now, his father’s expression had shown shock and anger, even hinting at murderous intent.

Shen Jue was smart since childhood and, after standing outside for a while, had thought it through. This was likely a case of his father being coerced. His mind was in a tangle again.

Ji Jiu’s face was pale, not sure if it was from shock or fear, trembling beneath Yi Mo, every joint in his body rigid as if he were dead. He never imagined he would be caught like this, never thought it would happen. Yet it did, with his own attendant witnessing his embarrassing situation.

Yi Mo could sense his feelings too; he stopped his movements and hugged Ji Jiu tightly, one hand wrapped around his back, comforting him with a gentle stroke, whispering, “Don’t be afraid; it’s nothing.”

Ji Jiu gradually regained his composure, but he felt a mix of anger and bitterness rising in his throat, tasting blood in his mouth and his mind darkening.

He didn’t know how long it took for him to calm down, but after this incident, the hatred couldn’t be suppressed, and murderous intent surged. Ji Jiu hesitated for a moment, raised a hand, and embraced Yi Mo’s neck, pulling him closer.

There was a story from the Warring States period about how the powerful Qin state, after conquering Zhao and Han, sought to attack Yan. Yan’s Prince Dan ordered the brave warrior Jing Ke to carry the head of a defector along with a map to assassinate the Qin king. In front of the king, Jing Ke presented the head, pulled out the map, and the landscapes of Yan gradually unfolded until, at the end, a dagger leapt onto the paper.

Ji Jiu held the person tightly, letting out a low moan, as if overcome by emotions after being frightened. Yi Mo was aroused, burying his head against Ji Jiu’s chest, licking and biting, becoming increasingly wild.

Just as they were nearing a climax, Ji Jiu suddenly retracted his wrist, the bones bending skillfully, and his eyes sparkled. The dagger he held flickered with a sharp light at the corner of Yi Mo’s eye and then shot upward, precisely piercing under his third rib.

Right at the heart’s location.

The dagger was so sharp that when it entered flesh, there was no pain, no sound; Yi Mo only felt a chill in his chest. When he looked down again, he saw Ji Jiu’s eyes filled with killing intent but also calm, like a bottomless abyss.

Ji Jiu’s hand remained on the hilt, still lying under him, his expression calm as he stared into Yi Mo’s eyes. He pushed the dagger forward another two inches, driving it all the way through.

The sensation of the sharp blade entering his flesh made Yi Mo close his eyes, and when he opened them again, his expression was still indifferent. In a low voice, he asked, “Do you really want to kill me?”

Ji Jiu looked at him, released his grip, letting his hand drop to his side, calmly answering, “Of course.”

Yi Mo lowered his head, his long black hair cascading beside them, obscuring Ji Jiu’s view of his face.

It was only then that droplets of blood began seeping from his heart, falling onto Ji Jiu, eventually flowing like a small spring, trickling out.

The scent of blood began to spread.

Ji Jiu raised his knee to push him away, but was restrained by Yi Mo, who merely lowered his head, softly saying, “It’s not over yet.”

Ji Jiu was stunned for a moment, but the person on him got up, flipping him over and pressing him onto the bed. Then, from behind, he forcefully thrust into him, this time intentionally causing pain. All the lubrication that had previously been applied was gone; the dry hole felt as if all previous expansion and moisture had disappeared. Ji Jiu felt a heart-wrenching pain as if he were being invaded for the first time, crying out in agony.

Ji Jiu shouted, “Bastard!”

Yi Mo didn’t respond.

Ji Jiu tried to turn over but was firmly pinned at the waist, thrusting again and again. Ji Jiu struggled, gradually feeling a sticky wetness spreading between his legs, but the pain had lessened. At the same time, the scent of blood grew stronger, as if he were drowning in a pool of blood, making him feel dizzy and nauseous.

He didn’t need to look back to know that the person behind him was manipulating him with the dagger still lodged in his heart. Ji Jiu suddenly fell silent.

Blood flowed from his heart, across his firm muscles, down his abdomen, and finally, with the movement of his waist, flowed to the point where they were connected.

Ji Jiu felt pain. Yet for some reason, as time passed, beyond the physical pain, a wave of acute pain began to infect his heart.

He ultimately had to admit that aside from the first time, apart from the pain… after so many times, it wasn’t entirely painful.

Because he finally admitted this, the pain in Ji Jiu’s heart intensified. His head grew heavy, as if being hammered, and Ji Jiu spat out a mouthful of blood.

So many times, he hadn’t allowed him even a hint of pain.

It was precisely because of those things other than pain that Ji Jiu had to push himself into despair. He couldn’t.

There were many things he couldn’t do.

Blood spread all around, staining the blanket red. Ji Jiu smelled it; he should have been a general forged in a sea of corpses, yet in this desperate bloodbath, he finally retched.

Ji Jiu was scared.