Chapter 13: Backbone (Side CP)

Chapter 13: Backbone (Side Couple)

At the end of the corridor hung a painting that Wen Qingshi recognized it in three seconds.

It was Caravaggio's *Medusa*.

The severed head of the snake-haired gorgon, its mouth agape in a scream frozen forever like an exclamation mark.

Now his own mouth was open too, but no sound came out.

Wen Qingshi now wore a collar around his neck. Wen Baichuan had deliberately slipped something into his food, and when he woke up, he was already in this ancient castle.

He'd once read in *Architecture of the Western Continent* that this castle, known as the "Fang of Calamity," was the sole property of the world-famous Fu family.

Its master, Fu Xi, was the underworld boss who controlled both the Eastern and Western Continents—the second-in-command of the Abyss Organization.

How could his father possibly know someone like this?

The chain from Wen Qingshi's collar trailed into the hand of the person in front of him—a woman whose perfume was so strong it hit you like a slap in the face.

Fu Xi's hair, dark as ground ink, fell against his temples, framed by gold-rimmed glasses. The man didn't look anything like the ferocious figure of legend; he even seemed a bit refined.

But men who looked this refined often hid boundless arrogance inside.

"Come here," Fu Xi spoke.

The people behind shoved Wen Qingshi forward, then pulled back like a tide, leaving him standing alone on the bare floor.

Fu Xi gave the chain a light tug, and the collar tightened, pressing just below his Adam's apple.

Fu Xi's cigar-holding hand slowly reached toward Wen Qingshi's neck. Wen Qingshi slapped it away.

That instant sparked Fu Xi's desire to conquer. "You've got some backbone."

Wen Qingshi stood there as the man sat on the sofa.

Fu Xi touched his own lips, removed his glasses, and locked his deep blue eyes on Wen Qingshi. Wen Qingshi's gaze was as sharp as a blade.

Suddenly, Fu Xi grabbed his arm and pinned him down on the wide sofa. The kiss came out of nowhere, and "Disgusting" slipped from Wen Qingshi's furious lips.

"Don't know your place?" Fu Xi gripped his jaw, as if he wanted to tear his face apart, his voice ragged. "Or is it that you don't like it?"

Wen Qingshi clenched his teeth, a fierce glint in his eyes. "Mr. Fu, the people in the Western Continent who want to be your lover—the line goes all the way to Country Y. What did I do to deserve being a bargaining chip between you and my father?"

"Heh." Fu Xi let out a cold laugh. "Your father said you were his lover?"

Wen Qingshi gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw protruding. "Surely Mr. Fu isn't going to marry me?"

"A mere adopted son of the Wen family—you're not even fit to be my lover, let alone my spouse," Fu Xi said, pressing the cigar directly against his chest. "I was just looking for a male whore."

"A thing ridden by thousands, pressed down by ten thousand—a toy for me to vent on."

Wen Qingshi struggled, but the other man's strength was immense. Fu Xi yanked the collar, and the pain made him drool.

Fu Xi's voice slithered into his ear, cold as a draft through a crack. "I want to see if a proud person can learn to love feeling like a whore."

Wen Qingshi was pushed to the brink of tears, his eyes like two deep pits, suddenly darting.

There was a knife on the side table. In the scuffle, when their bodies were pressed together, Wen Qingshi looked up, grabbed the knife, and drove it straight into Fu Xi's gut.

Fu Xi had incredible core strength. Even with a knife in him, he still had the strength to lift Wen Qingshi up and snatch the blade away.

A flash of steel, blood spraying—Fu Xi grabbed Wen Qingshi's hand, shoved him onto the tea table, and drove the knife clean through his palm.

"Ah!" Wen Qingshi screamed in agony, his hand was as good as ruined.

Fu Xi looked at the pained but defiant eyes before him. What a stubborn one.

Wen Qingshi's face went pale, blood pouring from his palm.

At that moment, Wen Qingshi was like a broken doll hung by the window, with his freshly bandaged wound still on display.

The ropes left red welts on Wen Qingshi's skin.

He hated—hated his father, hated this man tormenting him, and hated himself for being too stupid, too weak. He should've driven the knife through Fu Xi's throat.

At least he could take someone down with him before he died!

Through the glass window, Wen Qingshi saw his own reflection, and Fu Xi's devouring gaze flashed before his eyes.

In his study, Fu Xi tended to his wounds as a video call came through.

At that moment, Gu Junhan was in the underground chamber, personally setting up a room. In the distance, a big golden cage was visible.

Fu Xi lounged in his chair, showing off his bandaged abdomen. Seeing the scene, he remarked, "Master Gu's been busy with all this lately?"

Gu Junhan signaled to the butler beside him, who zoomed the camera in on the man's face. "Shouldn't you put some effort into keeping a pet?"

Fu Xi narrowed his eyes. "That's rare."

"Leo, you can still laugh like that while injured?" Gu Junhan asked.

Fu Xi didn't elaborate. "Just a tool that stopped working. By the way, those people are getting too cocky. When do we strike?"

"Isn't my uncle's birthday next month? Let's give him a big gift." Gu Junhan replied smoothly, his fingers tracing over a photo of Wen Yu drunk at the club from earlier.

After the video ended, Gu Junhan put the photo in the safe, where three thousand photos were already stacked.