Encountering a Snake - Chapter 11

v3c11

 

The ceremony concluded. Three others came forward to offer their congratulations. Shen Jue poured wine, filling their cups to the brim. The five of them drank together, and after finishing their drinks, the old immortal and Xu Mingshi prepared to leave. Everyone understood how hard it had been for this newlywed pair, and no one wished to disturb them.

 

Yi Mo escorted the guests to the door. The old immortal hesitated before saying, “Think it over again. If you change your mind, come with me in a year. What do you say?”

 

Yi Mo knew his intentions were kind and nodded in agreement.

 

Though the old immortal knew there was little hope, he was still comforted. Smiling faintly, his figure vanished in an instant.

 

Xu Mingshi cupped his hands in farewell. “It’s time for me to go as well. I’ll wander for another year, and when my time draws near, I’ll come to see you again.” Though he didn’t state it explicitly, it was a parting of sorts. As a mortal Taoist unable to ascend to immortality, he too couldn’t escape the inevitable fate of death. Flesh and blood will eventually meet their end.

 

As he spoke, Liu Yan emerged from the inner room, looked at Xu Mingshi, and remarked, “You’ve aged so much.”

 

Xu Mingshi huffed, glaring at Liu Yan’s youthful, smooth face with indignation. “You’ll grow old too.” After a pause, he pointed at Yi Mo and added, “But no matter how old I get, I’ll never be older than that old demon of yours!”

 

Liu Yan squinted his eyes and teased, “So what if he’s a demon? Age doesn’t matter. But you’re human and look like this. Haven’t you heard of this saying?”

 

“What saying?” Xu Mingshi naively walked into the trap.

 

Liu Yan grinned mischievously. “To grow old without dying is to become a thief!”

 

Xu Mingshi froze, and after realizing the jab, he nearly jumped in outrage. “You’re the thief! You’re the thief!”

 

His childish reaction made everyone laugh, including Liu Yan, who chuckled and gave him a light shove. “That temper of yours hasn’t changed. It’s getting late, and my courtyard is small. There’s no room for you here. Go find an inn to stay in down the mountain.”

 

Xu Mingshi stopped jumping around, stood still, and let out a sly laugh, pointing at Liu Yan’s nose. “In such a hurry to send me off, do you think I don’t know why?”

 

“What?” Liu Yan asked, baffled.

 

Xu Mingshi smirked. “You’re just itching to consummate the marriage, aren’t you?”

 

In the shadowy courtyard, Liu Yan’s ears turned red at once. He retorted, “Nonsense!”

 

Before Xu Mingshi could say more, Shen Jue interjected sharply, “Leave now, or do you want me to throw you out?” He effectively rescued Liu Yan from further embarrassment.

 

Now, Xu Mingshi wasn’t afraid of anyone these days—except Shen Jue. After all, he had killed Shen Jue’s parents in the past and carried a heavy burden of guilt. Over two hundred years had passed, and though Shen Jue had not sought revenge, Xu Mingshi’s remorse only deepened. Thus, when Shen Jue showed even a hint of anger, he obediently quieted down and hastily took his leave.

 

With the guests gone, the doors shut, leaving only the family. Back in the house, Shen Jue looked at Liu Yan in the flickering candlelight, then softly called out, “Father.”

 

The word carried a trace of sobbing, laced with pitiful grievance, tugging at Liu Yan’s heart. The baby he had cradled in his arms two hundred years ago had grown into a tall young man. Yet in all that time, Liu Yan had been with him for only thirteen years in the first life and not even ten in the second. For most of the youth’s life, he had been absent.

 

“Xiao Bao,” Liu Yan whispered, “you’ve suffered.”

 

How could he not have? A child once cherished, abandoned before coming of age, then forced to journey through mountains and rivers with Yi Mo, endlessly searching. Even when they finally reunited, Liu Yan no longer recognized him.

 

Now, with the memories of three lifetimes restored, Liu Yan stroked Shen Jue’s hair and could only repeat, “You’ve suffered.”

 

Standing to the side, Yi Mo watched. Having experienced the entire ordeal firsthand, and as one of its central figures, he couldn’t tell who had suffered more.

 

Perhaps they all had. Or perhaps none of them had.

 

Shen Jue lifted his face, breaking into a smile through his tears. “I’m willing. There’s no suffering.”

 

Willingness makes hardship no longer feel like hardship, grievances no longer feel like grievances.

 

No amount of blood and tears could outweigh the simple declaration: I’m willing.

 

And so, sweetness came from the bitterness.

 

Liu Yan gripped Shen Jue’s outstretched hand tightly, then turned to gaze at the man beside him with a smile.

 

“You’ve taught him well,” Liu Yan remarked when they returned to the bridal chamber. His heart grew heavy with gratitude, knowing that much effort had been required to turn a cold-hearted snake demon into a capable father. And all that pain had ultimately been caused by himself.

 

Even without Liu Yan speaking further, Yi Mo could guess most of his thoughts. He took Liu Yan’s hand and, sitting by the bedside, said, “I didn’t teach him anything. He learned it all on his own.”

 

“What did he learn?” Liu Yan asked.

 

Yi Mo smiled. Was it even necessary to say? No matter what he taught, it would have only been memorized. True understanding comes only from what one learns for oneself.

 

In his first life as Shen Qingxuan, he was a wealthy young master with a proud temperament. During those thirteen years, his cunning and shrewdness were used only in business, benefiting his family and showing kindness to others. He would bow his head to outsiders, remaining patient and generous in the face of insults. As long as his loved ones were unharmed, he acted with virtue and grace in all things.

 

In his second life as Ji Jiu, he was born into wealth and glory but held loyalty to his country above all else. Riding through frozen rivers and iron horses, he fought a lifetime of battles, indifferent to honor or disgrace. Strong-willed to the extreme, he never compromised when he shouldn’t, nor hesitated when he should. Resolute and clear-minded, he lived without ambiguity, always decisive and capable.

 

In both lives, his nature was the same: he never abandoned what he was meant to protect.

 

In one life, he protected his family; in another, his country. He never faltered. Thus, Shen Jue didn’t need anyone to teach him. Someone had already shown him what to do, through every word and deed, in both life and action.

 

Liu Yan picked up the red bridal veil, holding it in his hand, and let out a soft laugh. “And yet, it wasn’t enough. Otherwise, why is it that in two lifetimes, I still didn’t marry you?” With a flick of his wrist, he placed the veil over Yi Mo’s head.

 

Yi Mo remained still, letting the red fabric fall and cover him completely. He knew that, sitting on the bedside with a bridal veil, he must look every bit the bride. Yet he didn’t feel embarrassed. Once, when this man wanted to marry him, he had refused to yield—partly out of pride and partly because he couldn’t imagine himself as a bride.

 

But now, beneath the bright red veil, he thought to himself: at least it wasn’t too late. At least he hadn’t failed completely.

 

A quiet joy bubbled in his heart, like a small pebble dropped into a lake, sending ripples that grew wider and wider.

 

After three lifetimes of twists and turns, he had finally fulfilled Liu Yan’s dream. Seeing Liu Yan’s happiness made him happy too.

 

Outside the veil, the person standing before him grew visibly emotional. As if trapped in a dream, Liu Yan knew all too well that this was reality.

 

They were married.

 

Liu Yan’s trembling fingers grasped the edge of the veil and gently lifted it.

 

The curve of a jaw appeared first, then thin lips, followed by a nose, and finally a pair of extraordinarily dark yet gentle eyes. Refined and restrained, unparalleled in beauty.

 

Liu Yan leaned closer, forehead touching forehead, nose brushing nose. He raised his hand and draped the veil over both of them.

 

The joyous red fabric became their world.

 

“I like you,” Liu Yan said.

 

Yi Mo raised his hand to embrace him and responded, “I like you too.”

 

“In the first life, I liked you. In the second life, I still like you,” Liu Yan blinked, tears rolling down as he whispered, “I’ve always liked you.”

 

Yi Mo hummed in acknowledgment, a smile appearing on his face. The suppressed longing and bitterness from the past, sealed in his heart for so long, seemed to have been aged into a jar of wine by the passage of time, only to be uncorked today.

 

The seal was broken, and all the torment and pain had turned into a jar of sweet wine.

 

Under the red bridal veil, Liu Yan pressed his lips against Yi Mo’s, remaining there for a long time, as if recalling the warmth and breath from before—cool and soft.

 

Their lips stayed together, and Yi Mo didn’t move either.

 

On their wedding night, the red bridal curtains were lowered. Inside the canopy, the two knelt facing each other. Liu Yan reached out to undress him. Yi Mo’s black wide-sleeved robe slid to the side. Under Yi Mo’s hands, the ribbons and sleeves binding Liu Yan’s garments fell loose.

 

As they undressed, their eyes inadvertently met. Liu Yan’s ears turned red, while a glimmer appeared in Yi Mo’s eyes. After a moment of gazing at each other, they quickly lowered their eyes again, pulling at each other’s trousers and ties.

 

At last, they were bare, as if two newborn babies.

 

Liu Yan, however, didn’t move. His face was slightly flushed, and his gaze stayed on Yi Mo’s face, as if seeking confirmation. He didn’t speak, but Yi Mo understood. Instead, Yi Mo chuckled, laid back on the pillow, and extended a hand toward him. “Come.”

 

Liu Yan grasped his hand cautiously, leaning over him. First, he kissed Yi Mo’s forehead, then slowly trailed downward, landing on his lips. After lingering for a moment, he softly asked, “Did it hurt last time?”

 

Yi Mo replied, “It didn’t hurt.”

 

Liu Yan didn’t believe him. How could it not hurt? He remembered clearly how he had opened Yi Mo’s body with resentment and grievance, and he also remembered how many tears he shed that night.

 

If Yi Mo said it didn’t hurt, it must have been because his heart hurt more.

 

As if to make up for it, Liu Yan kissed him cautiously, from his forehead to the bridge of his nose. The tender and meticulous kisses seemed to offer comfort, as if telling him, “I won’t let you hurt anymore.”

 

The kisses, like warm water, flowed over his body. Yi Mo closed his eyes and simply smiled, unsure how long Liu Yan intended to continue. If this went on, Yi Mo felt he might peacefully fall asleep.

 

Seeing Yi Mo’s smile, Liu Yan smiled too. For no reason, they both started laughing. Then Liu Yan lowered his head, his tongue trailing down Yi Mo’s chest, sliding past his navel until his nose buried into that patch of hair.

 

Yi Mo’s smile faded slightly. Propping himself up with his elbows, he looked at the person between his legs, who, like a small animal, rubbed his face affectionately against Yi Mo’s member, making even his own face flush with two shades of redness and his eyes turn hazy.

 

Seeing this expression, Yi Mo suddenly felt his relaxed mood tighten. It was as if something in his lower abdomen had been pulled taut, burning fiercely. That organ swelled instantly, standing erect beside Liu Yan’s cheek.

 

“Kiss it,” Yi Mo said, his breath slightly erratic. Raising his hips, he brought himself closer to Liu Yan’s lips. “It misses you terribly.”

 

Liu Yan appeared momentarily resistant, quickly turning his face away. But moments later, he turned back and said softly, “Go easy.”

 

Yi Mo quickly realized and couldn’t help but laugh self-deprecatingly. “I must have caused a sickness in my last life.”

 

Liu Yan said nothing. He reached out to grasp the thick organ in his hand. Because of this interruption, the previously stiff member softened slightly in his hand. Feeling a pang of distress, he stroked it with his fingers, occasionally gliding down to cup the swollen sacs gently, kneading them. Seeing it swell and stiffen once more, Liu Yan finally felt relieved. Leaning down, he extended his tongue, licking along the slender shaft. After kissing the underside, he trailed back up, taking the swollen tip into his mouth and sliding his tongue over it repeatedly.

 

Yi Mo knew he had been too reckless in his past life, leaving Liu Yan scarred by such things. He hadn’t expected him to go this far, and his heart softened slightly. “Come up.”

 

Liu Yan ignored him, focusing on the task. His tongue occasionally pressed against the slit at the tip, his lips pursing to suck as his enthusiasm almost overwhelmed Yi Mo. Liu Yan adjusted to Yi Mo’s rhythm, meeting his movements. Saliva that couldn’t be contained dripped down the shaft, forming long, glistening strings. The scent of Yi Mo filled his nose, and his heavy breathing in his ears was intoxicating and alluring. Liu Yan felt a rush of heat in his mind, his own member standing erect, nudging the bed sheet in time with his actions.

 

Just as Yi Mo began to worry he might release in Liu Yan’s mouth, his deep, hoarse voice stopped him. “Enough.” He sat up again, only to be greeted by the sight of Liu Yan, his hair disheveled, his flushed face partially hidden by the cascade of his locks. His fair skin glowed faintly, and he knelt, hips raised high, his back and hips forming an elegant curve, like a taut bowstring. He was kneeling, servicing Yi Mo with his mouth. Yi Mo fell back onto the pillow, almost undone by the scene before him. Thinking it a blessing yet also torture, he held Liu Yan’s head down and thrust heavily a few times, releasing into his mouth.

 

The sudden forcefulness caused Liu Yan to choke slightly, covering his mouth to suppress a cough. He didn’t know where to spit, leaving him momentarily stunned.

 

Yi Mo glanced at Liu Yan’s erect member and his helpless expression while holding Yi Mo’s spent organ. Unable to resist, Yi Mo leaned closer, kissed his cheek, and nibbled his earlobe. With a seductive tone, he whispered, “Swallow it.”

 

The breathy words against his ear, damp and ticklish, sent shivers down half his body.

 

Startled, Liu Yan instinctively swallowed. Realizing what he had done, he glared at Yi Mo, his face flushed red. “You’re insatiable.”

 

Yi Mo only kissed his lips, teasing his way past Liu Yan’s teeth to tangle their tongues together. Liu Yan finally responded, their tongues entwining passionately in a kiss so deep it felt impossible to separate. When their lips finally parted, Yi Mo murmured, “Continue.”

 

Liu Yan bit his lip, his voice husky as he asked, “Do we still have the balm?”

 

Yi Mo quickly retrieved a box made of sandalwood, filled with a new balm, untouched and of a faint purple hue, seemingly the same as the one from before.

 

Scooping a portion into his hand, Liu Yan warmed it until it softened before applying it to Yi Mo. As he prepared him, he leaned over, kissing Yi Mo gently and asking, “Does it hurt?”

 

Yi Mo shook his head.

 

When he inserted a second finger, he asked again, “Does it hurt?”

 

Yi Mo shook his head again.

 

By the third finger, Liu Yan was about to ask when Yi Mo preemptively replied, “It doesn’t hurt.” He smiled as he said it.

 

Liu Yan bit his chest, leaving a mark before standing up. After generously applying the balm to his own swollen organ, he carefully guided it inside, inch by inch.

 

Halfway in, Yi Mo suddenly said, “It hurts.” Liu Yan, already sweating, immediately paused and leaned over to kiss his face.

 

After a moment, Yi Mo grabbed Liu Yan’s hand, placing it on the bite mark on his chest and calmly said, “That bite hurt.” It was just mischief—his innate mischievousness showing through.

 

Unexpectedly, Liu Yan lowered his head, earnestly kissing the mark as if truly upset, licking around the bite mark repeatedly, as if that could make it disappear.

 

Yi Mo’s playful attitude softened, and he fell silent.

 

“Tell me if it hurts,” Liu Yan said, kissing Yi Mo’s face. As he moved gently, his lips never ceased trailing across Yi Mo’s skin, from his cheeks to his neck, from his collarbone to his chest. The warm, tender kisses spread over every inch of his body, overflowing with love and care. Reverent and persistent, serious and solemn, as if a pilgrim worshipping before his deity, utterly devout.

 

It didn’t hurt, Yi Mo wanted to say. But he couldn’t get the words out, his heart overwhelmed by a bittersweet ache laced with joy.

 

Raising his arms, he held the person above him tightly. Yi Mo truly felt no pain—not the slightest bit. There was only a strong sense of discomfort.

 

And no pleasure.

 

Yet strangely, as he watched Liu Yan’s cautious, tender movements, he felt an immense satisfaction.

 

Liu Yan was holding back immensely, barely able to move. Only when Yi Mo moved slightly to indicate it was okay did Liu Yan lean down to kiss his lips. He began to thrust, burying himself deeply, withdrawing, and then plunging back in. Repeating the ancient rhythm of human connection.

 

The body he longed for was now open to him. The desire he sought had been fulfilled. As he approached the peak, Liu Yan silently thought, if he could die like this…

 

If he could die, locked tightly in this embrace, their bodies and souls intertwined, he would have no regrets.

 

Thinking this, for some reason, his tears flowed uncontrollably. Pressing against Yi Mo, Liu Yan cried silently, tears streaming down his face.

 

The dampness on his shoulder startled Yi Mo for a moment. He gently patted Liu Yan’s back, speaking softly, “Don’t cry.”

 

“Don’t cry. Don’t be sad,” Yi Mo said.

 

“I like you,” Yi Mo said.

 

Hearing this, Liu Yan inexplicably cried even harder. Like an unreasonable child, he buried his face in Yi Mo’s shoulder, wailing loudly while saying, “I like you too.”

 

And then he added, “I’ll cry if I want to!” Completely unreasonable now.

 

Yi Mo silently held him for a long time before finally saying, “Your crying makes me sad.”

 

Gradually, Liu Yan calmed down. Grabbing a nearby piece of clothing, he covered his face, seemingly feeling embarrassed. After cleaning away the tears, he dressed simply and went to fetch water.

 

After carefully cleaning them both, they lay down again.

 

The bright red wedding candles had only burned halfway. Under the covers, Liu Yan’s hand roamed over Yi Mo’s body, from his shoulder blades to his narrow waist, from his lower back to his front. His fingers lingered momentarily in the patch of hair before grasping Yi Mo’s member.

 

Yi Mo, already aroused, had been stirred up by Liu Yan’s touches, standing fully erect. Now that it was gripped, he didn’t react much at first, simply arching his waist slightly and rubbing against Liu Yan’s palm. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

 

Liu Yan’s face reddened. He leaned over to nibble at Yi Mo’s lips before guiding Yi Mo’s hand to his backside, letting it slide between the cleft and find the tight entrance there. It quivered under Yi Mo’s fingers, as if both fearful and inviting.

 

Instinctively, Yi Mo’s finger pressed against it slightly. Liu Yan let out a soft cry, “Ah…”

 

And just like that, passion engulfed Yi Mo, sweeping him away entirely.

 

“You…” Seeing Yi Mo hesitate again, Liu Yan knew what he was worried about. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned close to Yi Mo’s ear, whispering, “Don’t you want to return home?”

 

Home is wherever my heart feels at peace.

 

Yi Mo bit his lips, and this time, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

 

Completely consumed by this fiery passion, Liu Yan clung to him tightly, wishing for the flames to burn even brighter and fiercer.

 

Fully immersed. Unrelenting. Relentless.

 

tl- i love a switch couple🫣🫣🫣