Would You Like to Have a Drink

The sharp blade leaned closer to the pale skin, and the latter was scratched with a bloodstain by the cold sword energy, smearing a bright color onto the cold and sharp longsword.

Despite life-threatening circumstances, Yu Beizhou paused briefly before slowly retreating. Before leaving, took a final bite as punishment, effectively painting his own blood onto ravaged lips, only then appreciating the achievements with satisfaction and pleasure.

Enraged, Zong Luo freed his wrists grasped earlier, and grabbed onto the latter’s collar.

At precisely the moment Yu Beizhou prepared to receive another blow, the voice outside the tent was a bit puzzled. “What happened, Jin Yu?”

“Nothing.”

The crown prince in white was panting heavily as he calmed down his breathing.
His front was now covered in blood, his clothes were messy, and his hair was even more disheveled.

Let alone in the eyes of outsiders, it seemed as if recently experiencing a doting on demeanor.

Certain that Zong Luo dared not speak out, Yu Beizhou toyed with the cascading long silken hair in boredom. Or, little by little, lick along the slightly cold white jade like neck, and whisper softly beside the ear.

His hoarse tone conveyed potent lust. “Why not let him in, and take a look at your appearance, Senior brother?”

Unable to hold back anymore, Zong Luo knocked over wooden cups filled with fluid lying on the table simultaneously extending arms to strike the person in front fiercely.

Clatter—

The sound of spilled liquids mingled with crisp impact reverberated within the tent.

Pei Qiaxue was startled, asking, “What happened?”

“Toppled the water cup.”

A faint gasping sound came from the tent. Without careful attention, there was no way to distinguish. “While changing clothes, I accidentally brushed it aside. Can Ah Xue help me get another cup?”

“Okay.”

Since Zong Luo had said so, naturally, Pei Qiaxue couldn’t refuse.

He glanced thoughtfully at the inside of the tent before slowly turning around and leaving.

Upon hearing the sound of Pei Qianxue leaving, Zong Luo inside the tent couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

He lifted Zhanlu in his hand and stared coldly at the young man in red in front of him, suppressing his anger and said, “Yu Beizhou, what do you treat me as?”
Without a word, sneaked into the camp tent, forced a kiss without reason. There was even a further trend, like a primitive beast that only knew how to plunder.

Zong Luo hadn’t been so angry for a long time. “Am I a puppet who comes at your beck and call, comes as soon as you shout, love as you please, hate as you please?”

Anger accumulated to its highest point, eventually turning into unparalleled disappointment.

“You don’t understand love at all.”

Indeed, this person doesn’t understand what love is.

Love was humbling oneself to the dust, love was giving with devotion.

To love someone was to become a captive, surrendering and admitting defeat. It was always equal, no matter how proud and willful, one should lower their stance, it was impossible for a lofty demand.

“Get out of my sight, I don’t want to see you again.”

Zong Luo sheathed his sword and threw the tiger talisman of the Tianji Army on the desk, no longer looking at him.

Never before had Zong Luo so clearly realized that he could no longer be soft-hearted towards Yu Beizhou.

He did have feelings for Yu Beizhou, this was true.

But Yu Beizhou would always be a reckless child, only knowing how to flaunt his weapon, even if it was love, it was in a way that hurts others.

Zong Luo was already covered in wounds. He didn’t have the mood, nor the interest, to teach Yu Beizhou how to love.

“Senior brother,”

After a long time, a suppressed voice came.

The young man in red stood in place, pursing his lips and said, “You still hate me.”

His usual arrogance had faded a bit, and when it reached Zong Luo’s ears, there was even a hint of weakness that was not easy to detect.

How funny, Yu Beizhou, who used to chase him and force him to hate himself, would one day say such a thing in the face of his hatred?

If it had been earlier, if the wooden plaques hadn’t been exchanged, everything would have ended in that underground dark room, perhaps they could have let bygones be bygones, there would have been more possibilities.

But now, things have been settled, Yu Beizhou couldn’t retreat, and Zong Luo had nowhere to retreat.

Before coming, he just wanted to help Yu Beizhou through this death tribulation, a life for a rebirth, completely cutting off his own feelings.

After coming, unexpectedly piercing Yu Beizhou’s thoughts, Zong Luo felt it was absurd.

The wooden plaque that was exchanged, in the eyes of one person, might be letting go and sacrifice.

But in Zong Luo’s eyes, it was deception, concealment, and mockery.

The previous trip to Hanmen Pass, the whippings and pains he received along the way, all became a joke.

What he pursued hard and could not get, was nothing more than the charity of this proud son of heaven.

What is the reason for the charity, ha, it is love.

Who would care for this kind of love that stabs others bloody?

Zong Luo knew he was stuck in a dead end, but even if he was a saint, he could not completely abandon his emotions and think only with reason.

If he could die proudly under the Imperial City with his back straight, then naturally he could also proudly shatter this love in the camp.

“You’re right, I hate you, and it’s even more impossible to forgive you.”

At the end of Zong Luo’s throat, a familiar taste of rust rose, he turned his back, and hardened his heart. “Unless you die.”