Suo Qingjun Chapter 12

Sword Locks the Clear Night with Mad Obsession, Deeply Rooted Love Accompanies the Lord’s Slumber

The night was as dark as ink. The spiritual mist of Qihe Peak had lost its daytime clarity, now infused with a sticky tenderness as it drifted into Jin Xianling’s courtyard. The lamps were dimmed to a warm yellow, casting sparse bamboo shadows against the window lattices and throwing mottled fragments of light across the floor.

Qing Feng’an was settled on a bed layered with soft mattresses. Although his acupoints had not been fully unsealed, he could move slightly. He leaned against the headboard, the hem of his moon-white sword robe spreading out, making his handsome face appear even more refined. However, a layer of cold frost lingered in his eyes as he watched Jin Xianling slowly approach.

Jin Xianling had changed out of his dust-stained traveling clothes and now wore a black robe with dark patterns. His long hair was loosely tied behind his head. Stripped of his usual deference and frantic madness, he actually appeared somewhat gentle. He held a bowl of warm medicinal soup, his steps incredibly light as if afraid of disturbing the stillness of the night.

“Master, this is a tranquilizing soup. Drinking it will help you sleep peacefully.” He held the bowl to Qing Feng’an’s lips, his tone softer than ever before. The madness in his eyes was hidden deep within, leaving only an obsession so thick it could not be dissolved. “I won’t hurt you, and I won’t let anyone else disturb us again. Just think of this… as the beginning of our life together.”

Qing Feng’an turned his head away, unwilling to accept this “kindness.” The feeling of helplessness from his sealed acupoints and the chill of being betrayed by the person he trusted most intertwined, making his heart feel heavy.

Jin Xianling was not angered. He simply held the bowl persistently, his fingertips lightly stroking the rim. His voice was low and lingering. “Master, for three years, I have looked forward to this day every single day. I longed to face you quietly like this, to bring you tea and medicine, and to… keep your gaze fixed on me.”

He raised his hand, his fingertips carrying a slight chill as they gently brushed against Qing Feng’an’s temple. His movements were cautious, as if he were touching a fragile treasure. “I know you cannot accept this yet, but it doesn’t matter. I can wait. I will wait until you grow used to my company, until you understand my heart.”

Qing Feng’an’s entire body stiffened. He tried to pull away, but Jin Xianling lightly pressed down on his shoulder. The force wasn’t great, yet it carried an undeniable sense of control—an aura cultivated from the mastery of his martial arts. He was a completely different person from the youth who once needed his protection.

Jin Xianling suddenly flared with anger. “Master, don’t force me. If you won’t drink it this way, I’ll make sure you take it another way.”

Without waiting for Qing Feng’an to respond, he pressed himself forward. Driven by his own unrequited desires, he began to plunder wantonly. Qing Feng’an was instantly overwhelmed by an unprecedented wave of pain. That night, the bed frame creaked until dawn, and the cries lasted just as long. One person was weary to the soul, while the other was consumed by joy.