Something Big Has Happened

The campfire blazed brightly, the aroma of meat mingling with the scent of wine, and the clamor soared to the heavens. The Qi King's 100,000-strong army had been routed in a single day, and the Northern Liang had become a force to be reckoned with. Such a great victory was enough to make even the most restrained soldiers abandon their inhibitions and revel in unbridled celebration.

Xiao Jue ordered a feast for the army, with plenty of wine and liquor. He himself, unusually, shed some of his coldness and hardness, drinking with his generals and accepting all drinks, displaying a bold and unrestrained spirit.

Zhou Heng was also caught up in the atmosphere, his heart leaping with joy. With the great threat of the King of Qi crippled, Xiao Jue's ambition had taken another solid step forward, bringing him much closer to his goal of "completing his mission and returning home"!

Overjoyed, he also drank a few bowls of wine.

The wine in Beiliang was strong, and his tolerance for alcohol was already poor as a modern man. After a few bowls, his face was flushed, his head was heavy and his feet were light. He could only see people in a blur and could only grin foolishly. His colleagues pulled him into saying a lot of nonsense that he couldn't even remember.

In the end, Chen Zhen saw that he was really drunk and ordered his guards to half-support and half-carry him back to the small barracks next to the main tent.

Zhou Heng collapsed onto the bed, feeling dizzy and nauseous, but his heart was filled with a light and joyful feeling.

Mission went smoothly, that's good... Going home, there's hope... He haphazardly tugged at his collar, feeling hot, and mumbled indistinctly, "Water... cold water..."

The tent flap was suddenly flung open, bringing in a gust of night wind, along with a strong smell of alcohol and an even more imposing presence.

Xiao Jue walked in.

He had clearly drunk far more than Zhou Heng, yet his steps remained steady. However, his usually cold and deep eyes now seemed to be burning with two dark flames, locked tightly on the disheveled and drunken Zhou Heng in the dim candlelight.

"Lord, Lord Marquis...you're back?" Zhou Heng chuckled foolishly, trying to sit up, but his limbs felt weak.

Xiao Jue didn't say anything, but suddenly leaned down, pulled him up from the bed, and held him tightly in his arms.

The strong smell of alcohol mixed with Xiao Jue's unique aura hit Zhou Heng, who was stunned for a moment. Before he could react, his chin was lifted up and hot lips pressed down heavily.

The kiss carried an irresistible, possessive quality, more fierce and urgent than ever before.

A scalding tongue pried open his slightly parted lips and teeth in surprise, and plunged in, sweeping wildly, drawing out the already thin air and faint taste of alcohol from his lungs.

Zhou Heng was dizzy and breathless from the kiss. He subconsciously reached out to push Xiao Jue away, but his hands pressed against Xiao Jue's firm chest, like an ant trying to shake a tree.

"Ugh... let go..." The broken syllables were blocked back in his throat.

Xiao Jue's arms tightened like iron clamps, almost squeezing him into his body. His other hand began to roughly tear at his clothes.

The tearing sound of fabric was exceptionally clear in the silent tent, carrying a chilling quality.

The sound startled Zhou Heng's muddled mind, making him momentarily clear his head. He struggled a little harder, but his drunken body wouldn't obey him; instead, it seemed to be twisting and turning as if he were both resisting and welcoming.

Soon, his already thin robes and undergarments were torn to shreds, and a chill instantly seeped into his exposed skin, causing a slight shiver to run through him.

Before he could say anything more, he was lifted into the air, spun around, and then thrown back onto the bed with a "bang," leaving him completely disoriented.

He groggily raised his head and saw Xiao Jue standing by the couch, reaching out to loosen his belt. His outer robe and inner garment were casually tossed aside, revealing his strong, muscular upper body covered with old and new scars, which gleamed with a honey-colored sheen in the candlelight, exuding a wild and powerful aura.

Zhou Heng's drunkenness vanished instantly, and he stared wide-eyed in terror.

The desire in Xiao Jue's eyes was no longer concealed; it burned like wildfire, threatening to consume him completely. He suddenly realized—tonight, something truly terrible was about to happen!

He tried to scramble to the foot of the bed, but his limbs were weak and his movements were clumsy.

Xiao Jue had already climbed onto the bed. His tall body, radiating intense heat and imposing pressure, suddenly pressed down on him, trapping him firmly beneath him.

A burning hot hand reached for his waist without warning, grabbing his waistband and pulling it down.

"No...no! My lord! It's really not possible!" Zhou Heng was so frightened that his soul almost left his body. He struggled with all his might, and somehow managed to break free from Xiao Jue's grip on his wrist. He scrambled to the foot of the bed, hugged his knees, curled up into a small ball, and looked at Xiao Jue approaching with extreme terror.

"It's all over! I'm going to lose my backside tonight!" Zhou Heng cried out inwardly, his face drained of color, and the effects of the alcohol turned into cold sweat.

Xiao Jue paused, kneeling on the couch, his chest heaving violently from desire and alcohol, his dark eyes fixed on Zhou Heng, who was huddled in the corner trembling.

That look in his eyes was like that of a predator eyeing its prey, full of aggressive determination to win.

Zhou Heng felt a chill run down his spine under his gaze. He steeled himself and began to beg for mercy incoherently, "My lord! Xiao Jue! Except for this! Really, except for this! I'll do anything you want! Really! I promise I'll obey! I... I'll be your slave! I'll devise strategies for you until I die! Please, don't..."

He was so anxious that tears were about to come out, his voice trembling with sobs as he looked pitifully at Xiao Jue.

Looking at him like this, Xiao Jue's surging lust seemed to freeze for a moment, then became even more unfathomable.

He suddenly reached out, not to grab Zhou Heng, but to grab one of his bare ankles.

Zhou Heng shuddered in fright.

Xiao Jue pulled hard, dragging Zhou Heng, who was huddled at the foot of the bed, back under him. The movement was rough and carried an irresistible force.

Zhou Heng cried out in alarm, thinking he was doomed. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the "storm," and cursed the time traveler and Xiao Jue's ancestors for eighteen generations in his mind.

The expected pain did not occur.

Xiao Jue pressed down on him, his burning body temperature soothing him, but he didn't make any further moves.

He simply lowered his head and, in a hoarse, barely audible voice, spoke each word with burning heat and an unmistakable command in Zhou Heng's ear:

"Besides this? Okay."

Zhou Heng had just begun to feel a faint glimmer of hope.

The next second, Xiao Jue grabbed his shoulders and then pressed the back of his head.

His mind went blank for a moment, as if it had gone completely empty.

He froze, as if struck by lightning, unable to move.

Xiao Jue's hand remained pressed against the back of his neck, with considerable force.

Zhou Heng's cheeks instantly burned, turning a deep, almost blood-red color, and his ears rang. He understood. He understood what Xiao Jue meant.

This...this is even worse than the last one! At least the last one he could struggle a bit, but this one...

His mind was a jumble of emotions: shame, fear, absurdity, and a numb feeling of being driven to the brink of despair.

He could feel Xiao Jue's tense body and suppressed breathing.

After a few seconds of stalemate, perhaps the alcohol lowered his standards...

……

After an unknown amount of time, the candles inside the tent had burned down to the bottom, casting a dim and flickering light.

"Cough cough..."

Zhou Heng suddenly turned his head, leaned over the edge of the bed, and began to gag violently, tears and snot streaming down his face as his stomach churned.

Xiao Jue had stepped back a little and was leaning against the headboard. His chest was still rising and falling, but his breathing had calmed down a lot.

He looked down at Zhou Heng, who was coughing hysterically and looking utterly disheveled, his tone carrying a languid aftertaste and a hint of malicious mockery:

"You like it that much?"

Zhou Heng was coughing so violently that he almost fainted upon hearing this. He raised his head, his eyes blurry with tears and his face flushed, and glared fiercely at Xiao Jue. If that look could kill, Xiao Jue would already be riddled with holes by now.

He was trembling with anger and wanted to curse, but his throat burned with pain, and when he opened his mouth, he gagged and could only make meaningless "hoarse" sounds. Coupled with the tear stains and blush on his face, he looked even more pitiful and... ridiculous.

Looking at his miserable state, Xiao Jue's wicked smile seemed to deepen.

He reached out and pinched Zhou Heng's puffed-up cheeks, his fingertips still warm from the heat.

"Don't be in such a hurry," he added slowly.

Zhou Heng: "!!!"

"I'll get my ass off you!" Zhou Heng roared inwardly, wishing he could pounce on this bastard who got the better deal and was still acting innocent!

But his whole body ached and his throat was sore. He didn't have the strength to bite or even curse, let alone bite. He could only gasp for breath like a fish out of water, his eyes making a feeble accusation.

Xiao Jue seemed to have enjoyed his appearance enough, and finally took pity on him, reaching out to take the warm tea from the small table next to him and bringing it to his lips.

Zhou Heng wanted to turn his face away with pride, but his throat was so dry it was practically burning. After hesitating for a second, he took a small sip from Xiao Jue's hand.

After drinking the water, Xiao Jue pulled him over, wrapped him in the blanket, and lay down himself, his arm instinctively wrapping around his waist.

Zhou Heng stiffened for a moment, but unexpectedly, he did not struggle.

He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep, but in his heart he was bitterly reflecting: the mission progressed, but the price... wasn't it a bit too terrible?

Behind him, Xiao Jue listened to his gradually calming breathing and felt the body in his arms slowly relax from stiffness. A satisfied and deep smile appeared on his lips.

Xiao Jue's gaze darkened as it fell on Zhou Heng's exposed earlobe, which bore suspicious red marks.

Next time, perhaps we can try a different "method".

Zhou Heng unconsciously flinched in his sleep, as if sensing some malicious scheme.