At last, Lan WangJi concluded with resonating determination, “Everyday means everyday.”
T/N: *The piece of NSFW is known as The Great Harmony of Life (Part One was the part that was interrupted by the serious exchange) (naming credit belongs to the author). Content included was a blowjob, swallowing, fingering, and Actually Putting It In. Possible squeaks include: lack of lube, pain, and K’s tears. Enjoyed it? Harmony Part One ended then Serious business proceeded (for a short while before they got back to it). Serious business ended and Harmony Part Two proceeded. Content included: continued fucking, WWX looking for trouble getting what he deserves. Possible squeaks include: WWX openly professing his rape fetish (and anyone who kink-shames him for it can perish), and more tears. Also LWJ has a biting kink and we will give him love. End of Harmony, they continued to fuck but it’s a bit more explicit (Even more explicit? *gasp*). Ends on a note we all should love. Thus is a quick summary of the chapter. :)*
Chapter 112: WangXian (Part Two)
Translated by K of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
If you are reading this on a site other than exiledrebelsscanlations, you are reading a stolen copy. Please read at the original site.
Three months later, at Guangling.
Over a mountain, a crowd of villagers holding torches and farm tools as weapons slowly surrounded a patch of woods on the mountain.
There was a nameless graveyard atop the mountain, which hadn’t been peaceful for the past few months. Having been continuously haunted by ghosts, the villagers down the mountain couldn’t take it any longer and asked a few cultivators who were passing by to go up the mountain together and destroy the root of the hauntings.
As dusk fell, the chirps of insects grew even clearer. Rustles now and then came from within the waist-high grass, as though some unknown creature lurked within, ready to attack. But when one parted the grass nervously, casting the torch light on it, it’d prove to be another false alarm.
Holding swords, the cultivators led the villagers carefully across the grass and into the woods.
Right inside the forest was the graveyard. The tombstones made of either stone or wood were partly falling and partly fallen. Dark, gloomy winds blew across the scene. Exchanging a look, the cultivators took out their talismans and prepared to start exorcising the spirits. Seeing their calm composure, a few of the villagers let out a sigh of relief, inferring that the situation shouldn’t be too difficult.
But before the were relieved for long, they heard a loud slam. A badly mutilated corpse crashed into a pile of dirt before them.
The villager closest to the pile of dirt shrieked, throwing his torch as he scrambled away. Immediately after, a second, a third, and a fourth bloody corpse had landed as well. Almost as if raining down from the sky, the corpses fell to the ground ceaselessly. Screams at once echoed throughout the woods. The cultivators had never seen such a situation before, but they remained unafraid despite the shock. The leader shouted, “Don’t run! Don’t panic! It’s only a few small ghosts…”
Before he finished, as though his neck had been strangled, his voice was cut off.
He saw a tree.
A person sat on on the tree, dangling a slice of his black robes. A slim, black boot swung lightly back and forth, in a relaxed, almost amused way.
Beside the person’s waist was a dark, gleaming flute, and below the flute hung a blood-red tassel, swishing slowly alongside his leg.
The cultivators’ expressions changed at once.
The villagers had originally been losing their minds. With the shout, just as they felt somewhat soothed, they saw the pale-faced cultivators and bolted at once, rushing out of the woods and down the mountain like a gust of wind. They abandoned the cultivators with the assumption that there must be some terrible creature atop the mountain that these cultivators couldn’t even manage. Within the blink of an eye, they scattered like a crowd of frightened animals. One of the villagers ran a bit slower, falling behind as he tripped on the ground, eating a mouthful of mud. He thought he was dead for sure, having ended up alone, but he suddenly saw a young man in white stand before him. His eyes immediately lit up.
Hanging a sword at his waist, the man seemed like he was enveloped in a hazy light, almost heavenly amid the dark forest. He didn’t seem like the average person. The villager hurried to call for help, “Young Master! Young Master! Help me, there’s a ghost! H-H-Hurry and…”
Before he finished, another corpse landed in front of him. The bleeding features stared straight into his eyes.
Just as the villager was about to pass out from fear, the man said one word to him, “Go.”
It was only a single word, but the villager felt a inexplicable sense of ease, almost as though he was saved from death. Strength suddenly gushed back into his body as he crawled up and fled without looking back.
The man in white glanced at the corpses crawling in the woods, as if he didn’t know what to think of it. He looked up. The black-clothed person who’d been sitting atop the tree hopped off as well, instantly darting beside him and pinning him onto a tree. He whispered, “Huh, isn’t this the pure and noble HanGuang-Jun, Lan WangJi? What brings you to this territory?”
Surrounded by corpses creeping on the ground, either cruel or confused or committed, the person propped one hand on the tree trunk. Lan WangJi was stuck in the space between his arm and the tree, expressionless.
The person continued, “Since you’re making such a nice little home delivery, I’ll… Hey, hey, hey!”
With a single hand, Lan WangJi had locked both his wrists.
The tables turned. The one in black exclaimed, having been overpowered, “Good Heavens, HanGuang-Jun, you’re too powerful. I can’t believe it—this is shocking, this is unthinkable! You conquered me with only one hand and I can’t resist at all! What a scary man!”
Lan WangJi, “…”
His hands involuntarily tightened, and the other’s surprise turned into terror, “Ow, it’s so painful. Let me go, HanGuang-Jun. I won’t dare do such a thing ever again. Don’t seize me like this, and please don’t tie me up, or force me onto the ground…”
Watching his words and actions become even more exaggerated, Lan WangJi’s eyebrow twitched. He finally interrupted him, “… Stop fooling around.”
Wei WuXian was right in the middle of his plea, surprised, “Why? I haven’t finished begging for mercy yet.”
“…” Lan WangJi, “You beg for mercy every day. Stop fooling around.”
Wei WuXian drew nearer toward him, whispering, “Isn’t it what you wanted… Everyday means everyday.”
His face was so close it seemed like he was going to kiss Lan WangJi, yet he refused to make direct contact. Their lips were near yet apart, separated by a mere paper’s width, as if an amorous but stubborn butterfly flitted around a prim petal, denying it a kiss. With the tease, Lan WangJi’s light eyes flickered. He moved slightly, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer and the petal was finally going to touch the butterfly’s wings out of its own will. Yet, Wei WuXian lifted his face all at once and dodged his lips.
He raised a brow, “Call me Gege.”
Lan WangJi, “…”
Wei WuXian, “Call me Gege. I’ll let you kiss me if you do.”