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As Muer slowly regained consciousness, he found He Mu Ming beside him, soundly asleep with his arm draped over Muer's Submissive lder.
The strong scent of Osmanthus wine lingered in the air, and Muer couldn't help but frown. With gentle movements, he shifted the man's arm away from him. He suppressed the discomfort in his body and carefully got out of bed, turning to look at He Mu Ming, his eyes red from unshed tears.
He did not like He Mu Ming; all he felt for him was deep-seated loathing.
At just sixteen years old, Muer was in the prime of his youth as a Kun Ze. Three months ago, he could never have imagined that he would be marked by a man nineteen years his senior.
His brother had promised to find him the bravest warrior of the Wolf Tribe as a husband, ensuring that he would be the happiest Kun Ze in the entire tribe.
But—just because he wanted to see how his brother commanded on the battlefield, he was thrown off his horse by this man and abducted amidst the chaos of the crowd.
On his first day in this military camp, all he could think about was escaping, yet he found himself trapped in this cage-like place.
He had thought that this man intended to use him as a bargaining chip with his brother for some gain; if that were true, perhaps he could survive.
But the reality was far from what he had imagined.
That day marked the darkest and most painful moment of his life.
On the very first night after arriving here, this man had forcefully marked him.
The once pure Xin Xiang, like a snow lotus, was now tainted with Osmanthus wine aroma, forever losing its innocence. Even if he returned to the tribe, and even if his brother accepted him back, how could those who had always watched his brother and waited for him to make a mistake ever let go of someone who had been tainted by Heavenly Enlightenment People and lost their purity?
"Give me a child, Muer."
Muer's chaotic thoughts, influenced by Xin Xiang, gradually began to clear. He slowly recalled the words he had spoken under the suppression of He Mu Ming's Xin Xiang.
Those were words so filthy that they seemed to have been uttered only under the devil's temptation.
Muer bit his lip, his calves trembling slightly from anger and fear. He slowly knelt on the soft carpet made of cow and sheep wool, crying silently. Tears welled in his eyes but stubbornly refused to fall.
How had he fallen to such a state?
“... You've already been marked by me, your whole body is stained with my scent. If you think you can return to your Wolf Tribe, give up that idea. Unless I die, you'll never go back.”
Suddenly, Muer clutched his head as He Mu Ming's fierce visage and those words echoed clearly in his mind.
If He Mu Ming didn't die, he would never be able to go home.
His small frame trembled slightly as Muer slowly lifted his head, a determined light flickering in his ice-blue eyes.
He crawled forward on his knees, picked up the dagger that had fallen to the ground earlier, and gripped it tightly once more. Then, he abruptly turned around, biting his lip, and cautiously approached He Mu Ming's bedside.
His arm trembled uncontrollably as Muer felt the chilling touch of the dagger. This dagger was a gift from his brother for his sixteenth birthday.
He Mu Ming was still asleep. His chest was exposed, revealing a few scratches that looked like they had been made by someone’s claws, along with faint scars that rose and fell with his breathing.
In the next moment, Muer steeled himself, raising the dagger high above his head and aiming it at He Mu Ming's heart. With all his strength, he plunged it down.
At that moment, the cold gleam of the dagger flashed before He Mu Ming's eyes. Instinctively sensing danger, He Mu Ming reacted instantly, reaching out to grab the tip of the dagger that Muer was thrusting downward.
It seemed no one had anticipated this turn of events.
One drop, two drops; blood slowly dripped from He Mu Ming's palm, falling onto his chest and blooming into glaring red flowers.
Muer stared at He Mu Ming in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief and resentment. He Mu Ming furrowed his brow and looked back at Muer, his gaze revealing a hint of incredulity. Both were taken aback by this sudden change, and for a moment, the atmosphere froze.
He Mu Ming was the first to regain his composure. A smirk crept onto his lips, revealing a disdainful smile. With a sudden forceful motion of his arm, Muer was jolted back two steps, nearly dropping the dagger in his hand.
"Do you think this will make me let you go?"
The oppressive aura of Tian Qian surged toward Muer like a tidal wave. The young boy's beautiful eyes glistened with tears; in his panic, he accidentally stepped on scattered clothes at his feet and stumbled to the ground.
He Mu Ming slowly crouched down, gripping Muer's chin with a mocking tone. "Stay right here; you’re not going anywhere. Give me a child—preferably a Tian Qian. Don’t entertain any more crooked thoughts; next time, I can't promise I'll be so kind... to you."
However, before He Mu Ming could finish his sentence, he looked down at his chest in shock.
Unbeknownst to him, the dagger had already been plunged into his chest by the boy’s hand, crimson blood oozing from the wound. He Mu Ming instinctively reached out to grab Muer, but he nimbly turned and evaded him.
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