Chapter 281 The Twenty-Sixth Day of Entering a Xuanhuan Novel

Chapter 281: The Twenty-Sixth Day in a Fantasy Novel

"Allow me... to touch." Xie Xuandu continued.

"Allow me... to leave my mark." His gaze turned even more profound and intense.

Then, with a subtle shift in tone, he spoke word by word: "Allow you... to take me for yourself."

An Yi listened quietly. The sensation at his neck was faintly ticklish, carrying that particular warmth only human fingertips have.

He could clearly feel the burning, obsessive emotion in Xie Xuandu's words.

He tilted his head slightly, reached out, and grasped Xie Xuandu's wrist that lingered at his neck, trying to push him away.

However, the moment he seized Xie Xuandu's wrist, Xie Xuandu suddenly flipped the script. With a quick twist of his wrist, he instead grabbed hold of the hand An Yi had been using to push him away.

Then, before An Yi could react, Xie Xuandu lowered his head, brought An Yi's fair, slender hand with well-defined knuckles to his lips, and gently kissed the back of it.

The warm, damp sensation was there and gone in an instant.

An Yi frowned slightly. He was about to pull his hand back when he saw Xie Xuandu lift his eyes, a gleam that mixed obsession with provocation within them. Suddenly, he darted his tongue out and quickly licked across An Yi's knuckle!

The slick, warm sensation shot across his skin, leaving a damp, cool trail behind.

An Yi: "..."

Why does this feel weirdly familiar?

His face darkened. Without further hesitation, he yanked his trapped hand back hard—

"Slap!"

A sharp slap rang out through the silent room.

An Yi's strike carried no spiritual power, but the force was no joke, landing square on Xie Xuandu's face.

Xie Xuandu's head was knocked to one side, a bright red handprint quickly blooming on his pale cheek.

An Yi stared at him. He hadn't even said yes yet! And this guy was already pushing his luck?

But what Xie Xuandu did next left An Yi totally speechless.

Xie Xuandu stayed with his head turned to the side for a moment.

Then, he slowly turned his head back, lifted his face, and looked straight at An Yi. There wasn't a hint of anger or hurt in those phoenix eyes—instead, they blazed with an alarming brightness, churning with a nearly manic, warped delight.

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, where his teeth might have nicked it.

Then, under An Yi's shocked gaze, he reached out both arms and, without a word, wrapped them tightly around An Yi's calf, pressing half his face against An Yi's knee. In a weird tone that was both kind of whiny and dead serious, he said:

"You can't play favorites like that."

He pointed to his left cheek, which had just been struck, then to the untouched right one: "This side hasn't gotten slapped yet."

An Yi: "..."

He was starting to get scared.

He looked at Xie Xuandu, who was latched onto his leg, and for a moment didn't know how to respond.

Had he... gotten broken by that slap?

A wave of helplessness washed over An Yi. Or had he always been like this?

He raised his hand, looked at his own palm, then at Xie Xuandu's obviously expectant look, and suddenly didn't dare to hit him again.

Afraid of making it too enjoyable for him.

An Yi thought flatly. Even more afraid that when he swung, Xie Xuandu would lick his hand.

No... An Yi looked at the knuckle that had just been licked, his brow twitching. He'd already done it.

Thinking about that slick, sticky feeling, and then looking at Xie Xuandu's current posture—like someone waiting for a reward—An Yi couldn't help but laugh, pissed off by this shameless reaction.

He pointed at the door: "Get out!"

Xie Xuandu's arms around his calf stiffened almost unnoticeably at the clear order to leave.

He raised his head. The bright red handprint on his face stood out even more under the cold moonlight, but there was no shame or embarrassment in his eyes from being yelled at.

Instead of letting go, he pressed his cheek even harder against An Yi's knee, covered in that soft sleepwear, as if trying to rub his scent into every fiber.

His tone had a spine-tingling mix of whining and obsessive seriousness: "An Yi said get out..."

He repeated the words quietly, then kept going on his own, his voice dropping with a clingy persistence: "But I don't wanna leave. I wanna stay wherever you are."

His arms tightened further.

An Yi looked at this guy—completely unfazed, even getting more worked up from the scolding like he'd been rewarded—and felt a dull throb at his temples, a wave of helplessness washing over him.

Does this guy... actually have some weird, hidden fetish?

He thought expressionlessly. Is Xie Xuandu broken somewhere?!

He silently watched the oversized thing clinging to his leg, then paused and suddenly leaned in toward Xie Xuandu.

The distance between them closed instantly, close enough to count each other's long eyelashes.

An Yi lowered his voice. That clear, crisp voice, at such close range, had a subtle vibe like he was sharing a secret, and he asked directly:

"Do you have some kind of weird fetish?"

He asked bluntly, his eyes studying Xie Xuandu's briefly stunned face, then added: "I don't, just so you know."

Xie Xuandu saw An Yi suddenly lean in, those perfect lips just inches away. His breath hitched, a flash of anticipation in his phoenix eyes—he thought... he was about to get kissed.

But instead, what came was a question.

His face went blank for a second, and he blinked in confusion: "...What is a special fetish?"

An Yi looked at his confusion, which seemed real, and stayed quiet for a few seconds.

Moonlight streamed through the window lattice, casting little fan-shaped shadows under his lowered lashes.

In the end, he patiently explained as calmly as he could, even though it felt kind of ridiculous: "It means... liking pain, especially during certain... special moments."

He put it euphemistically, but the meaning was obvious.

Xie Xuandu was stunned for a second, then, like he'd just heard something hilarious, burst out laughing.

The laughter spilled from the depths of his throat, echoing through the room.

He tilted his head back, gazing at An Yi, so close to him, the light in his eyes blazing with intensity: "No, I didn't."

He denied it flat-out, then his tone turned profoundly earnest: "I just love everything you give me."

His gaze traced An Yi's features meticulously, from the cool brows to the pale lips, his voice soft yet carrying weight: "Whether it's a touch or a push away, a smile, or... this slap."

He gently brushed his fingertips against his cheek, no longer red, where a fiery sting still lingered, yet it stirred a twisted sense of satisfaction within him: "If it's from you, I love it all."