TVMCC Chapter 66

Chapter 66: Medicine

There were far too many dried red chili peppers added—Yun Yi’s lips were painted a vivid red. His mouth hung half-open, his tongue occasionally flicking out, and his eyes were stinging red.

“Jiang Qiu… water,” he rasped.

As water was handed over, a small black pill was slipped into Yun Yi’s mouth. A cup was brought to his lips while Jiang Qiu supported his chin, forcing Yun Yi to tilt his head back to drink. Before he could even react, the pill was swallowed.

“Peh, peh, peh!”

“Jiang Qiu, what did you make me take?!” Yun Yi snapped, swatting away Jiang Qiu’s hand. His eyes were red with anger as he glared furiously—even as his lips remained brilliantly red.

Jiang Qiu set the cup down, his eyes soft and gentle, as if he were delivering good news. In an unexpectedly cheerful tone he said, “It’s medicine. As long as you take it on time, you’ll be well in no time.”

Yun Yi’s expression barely changed. In fact, he almost reached for the water on the table to splash it in Jiang Qiu’s face.

“Get out!” he ordered.

“Young Master…” Jiang Qiu began, but his smile faded as he looked at Yun Yi’s face. He couldn’t understand why someone so desperate to live would react so indifferently upon hearing such “good news.” Clearly, Yun Yi should have been just as happy.

Yun Yi sat down, restraining the urge to overturn the dishes on the table, and said coldly, “Jiang Qiu, if you ever act on your own again, I’ll kill you!”

“Alright,” Jiang Qiu replied with a slight nod, tidying the table before leaving the room.

Perhaps it was still the shadow of the last medicine ordeal, but the little Young Master’s resistance was evident. Jiang Qiu assumed that after a few more feedings, Yun Yi would begin to feel the medicine’s effects—and perhaps even be pleased by them.

The moment the room door closed, Yun Yi completely relaxed. Leaning back against the single sofa, he couldn’t help but let a small, mocking smile tug at his lips as he recalled Jiang Qiu’s earlier expression. How stupid—to think that a bottle of medicine could save him.

Back in his room, Jiang Qiu carefully placed the porcelain bottle in a high spot and, over the next few days, whether beaten or scolded, he tried every means to feed the little Young Master a pill. By the final two days, Yun Yi had grown accustomed to it.

After dinner one evening, Yun Yi coldly watched as Jiang Qiu half-kneeled before him. The next steps needed no guessing: that firm hand would grip his chin, a black pill would roll into his mouth, and a cup of water would be brought to his lips—no matter how much he struggled, the pill would be forced down.

He had never been in control of himself; in every lifetime, he was never truly his own.

Amid Jiang Qiu’s determined expression, Yun Yi slowly extended his hand. “Where’s the medicine?”

Jiang Qiu’s fingertips trembled as he held the black pill in his hand—only two remained, and not one could be wasted. Shaking his head, he said, “Young Master, I’ll feed you.”

“Give it to me!” Yun Yi demanded.

In their standoff, Jiang Qiu was always the one to yield. Under Yun Yi’s steady gaze, he raised the small pill—no larger than a soybean, cradled between thumb and forefinger. Even after so many days of being fed, this was the first time Yun Yi had seen the pill in its true form: pitch black, looking less like medicine and more like poison.

Reaching out, Yun Yi took it and examined it closely, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Jiang Qiu’s heart nearly clenched at the sight.

“You need to drink it, Young Master.”

“Why are you so persistent?”

“It’s good for your health. I… Madam Yi and Yi Zong both wish for you to live a long life.”

With a soft sigh from within, Yun Yi tossed the pill into his mouth—but he didn’t swallow. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the half-kneeling Jiang Qiu and pressed his lips to his, murmuring softly, “But the medicine is so bitter…”

He nearly pressed his lips against Jiang Qiu’s, his tone so plaintive that Jiang Qiu felt the little Young Master might burst into tears at any moment. Yet instead of yielding, Yun Yi’s lips met his, forcing Jiang Qiu to taste that bitterness as well.

“Jiang Qiu… I don’t want to take the medicine.”

Jiang Qiu knelt up straighter, his arms trembling as he pulled Yun Yi close from behind—one hand still supporting his head. Although he had done many excessive things before, the little Young Master’s moments of initiative when fully awake were far too few. It felt as if he were dreaming—if he applied any more force, the dream might shatter.

From that moment on, Jiang Qiu no longer clung to his old stubbornness. He surrendered entirely to Yun Yi, letting every bit of his obstinacy be softened by Yun Yi’s deliberate coquettishness. There was once a time when he harbored such hatred toward Yun Yi that he acted without restraint, disregarding Yun Yi’s feelings entirely. But love is not like that. Love made him considerate, hesitant, and pained.

Unable to bear the suffering on behalf of the little Young Master, yet desperate to present all the beauty of the world before the indifferent Yun Yi, he pleaded, “Yun Yi, please… just look at me.”

Jiang Qiu, holding Yun Yi’s lips, tasted a hint of bitterness as it seeped out, and softly coaxed, “Little Yi, your health isn’t good—you need to take your medicine.”

With his eyes closed, Yun Yi collapsed onto Jiang Qiu’s chest in a gesture of self-abandonment. “I don’t want to take the medicine…” he murmured. In the end, all he repeated were those four words: “I don’t want to take it.”

Jiang Qiu dared not agree, nor could he refuse, so he deepened the kiss. Beneath his palm was Yun Yi’s slender, delicate waist—smooth and almost painterly in its perfection. He memorized the feel of it, wanting to imprint that sensation even more deeply. Tentatively, his tongue licked Yun Yi’s lips—and there was no rejection.

That small acceptance filled Jiang Qiu with renewed courage. His dark eyes fixed on Yun Yi’s trembling lashes as he asked, “Is that alright?”

Yun Yi responded to the kiss with a low, reluctant moan, “Get lost.”

“I…” Jiang Qiu began.

[Content deleted—nearly a thousand characters were cut.]

[It was deleted so thoroughly that it left nothing, as if locked away in a tiny dark room with no escape.]

—

Determined to have Yun Yi take his medicine, Jiang Qiu sought out He Yutang again, carrying a porcelain bottle filled with medicine.

“I’d like to trouble you with a favor,” he said.

He Yutang ordered a glass of milk and, tapping his finger, paid little mind to Jiang Qiu’s words. It seemed that Jiang Qiu had only ever two reasons to seek him out. In the past he had wanted to return to the Qin family, but now he spent every day catering to the little Young Master of the Yun family. After all, a sickly, feeble omega can be found anywhere.

“I want a medicine that isn’t bitter.” After a pause, Jiang Qiu added, “Is there any way to cure him without taking medicine?”

“Like that incense stick—just a whiff, and one would pass out. A single sniff, and the little Young Master’s illness would be cured.”

“What?” He Yutang’s finger froze mid-tap as his eyes widened in disbelief. He had never expected Jiang Qiu to make such an unreasonable request.

Seated in a private lounge room, separated by a few seats from others, He Yutang ordered a cigarette, exhaled a plume of smoke, and said, “Repeat what you just said.”

“Is there any way to cure him without taking medicine?”

He Yutang snorted derisively. “There is—just kill me!”

Jiang Qiu frowned. “You’re my own cousin.”

“You even remember I’m your cousin!” He Yutang’s smile vanished. “Killing me would be far better than torturing me!”

“Think of a solution, he…” Jiang Qiu began.

“He—what about him? It was you who wanted me to save him, and now it’s you who refuses his medicine.” He Yutang’s anger mounted. “Let me tell you, there’s no other way; if you want a solution, he has to take his medicine!”

“Yun Yi is afraid of bitterness.”

Rolling his eyes and mimicking Jiang Qiu’s tone, He Yutang sighed, “Yun Yi is afraid of bitterness~”

Jiang Qiu could only fall silent.