Chapter 50: Cheating

Tan Xueci stiffened for a second and tried to struggle, but before he could even begin, he felt a sudden, sharp slap across his bottom. Half of his hip went soft and numb from the impact; he was so startled he nearly screamed out loud.

“Ngh…” Tan Xueci bit his lip to keep from making a sound, his misty eyes widening in a dazed blur.

He had been spanked.

His mind went blank for several seconds. He had endured many beatings in his life, but being pinned down and spanked like this was a first.

By the time he finally came to his senses, his snowy-white cheeks were practically burning crimson. With tears pooling in his eyes, he kicked his legs back with all his might, trying to strike He Xunye. “What are you doing?!” he cried out in grievance.

“I told you I was going to punish baby,” the malevolent spirit lowered its dark, peach-blossom eyes. Looking at Tan Xueci’s resentful face, its lips curved into a cold, raspy smile. It chided him, “Baby is so naughty, doing bad things home alone and knocking over husband’s spirit tablet.”

Tan Xueci’s eyelashes trembled violently. His lips were parted as he panted wetly, revealing the tip of a tongue that had been sucked a vivid red. He let out a few whimpers, struggling even more fiercely than before as he cried out in tragic indignation, “This is domestic violence! Divorce! I want a divorce!”

The spirit actually laughed, seemingly finding him adorable. It cupped his cheek, kissing the red, swollen bead of his upper lip, and asked curiously, “And who does baby plan to find to process our divorce?”

Tan Xueci froze. Right… who? Do I find He Wuling, or the King of Hell?

With tear tracks staining his pale cheeks, Tan Xueci glared hatefully at He Xunye. He slapped away the ghost’s hand and began sobbing as he reached for his phone. He was going to call He Wuling—this life was simply unbearable!

But he was terrible at taking care of himself and always left his things scattered about. Usually, He Xunye cleaned up after him, picking up things in his wake. After being separated from He Xunye for just a few hours tonight, he had no idea where he had dropped his phone.

As he searched through a blur of tears, he suddenly stiffened. He turned his head toward He Xunye’s hand in disbelief.

“What… what are you doing…”

The spirit’s gaze darkened instantly. The muscles of his powerful back arched as his high nose bridge pressed against the back of Tan Xueci’s neck. Despite his breath being ice-cold, he managed to rub that patch of skin until it felt scalding.

He didn’t care about anyone else’s life, nor his own. There was a morbid, frantic quality to him; no one would ever want to provoke such a person, let alone the fact that he wasn’t even human—he was a specter.

Yet this specter’s gaze was now incredibly tender. He patted Tan Xueci gently, coaxing him like a small child until Tan Xueci went soft in his arms, his head spinning.

He had originally wanted to scream and curse, but with his red lips halfway open, he was so thoroughly “coaxed” that he forgot to make a sound.

The spirit leaned in and gave a low chuckle against his ear, seemingly feeling kind at this moment. He warned softly, “Baby, don’t scream too loud, okay? The others will hear.”

“Of course,” the spirit’s lips curled as he nuzzled the tip of the boy’s nose intimately. “I don’t mind. I’m just afraid you won’t like it.”

Tan Xueci knew He Xunye definitely didn’t mind—after all, He Xunye was disgusting and shameless—but he still cared about his dignity.

He couldn’t fathom the heart of a specter and feared He Xunye would carry him outside to do him in front of everyone. He could only bite his lip through his tears, not daring to curse loudly or struggle with much force.

Because of his previous thrashing, his nightgown had slipped down and bunched at his waist, leaving his snowy-white back completely exposed. He was sweating slightly, and strands of his long black hair clung to his spine; he was so beautiful it was impossible to look away.

“Wu… Husband…” Tan Xueci whimpered in fear, struggling through blurred vision. The corners of his eyes were stained a piteous watery-red as he stammered, “Please… I beg you…”

What do I do? It feels like I’m really becoming a ghost’s wife.

Tan Xueci’s tears flowed like a river. He gave a small, aggrieved sniff. So what if I pushed it? It’s just a heavy, stupid spirit tablet. Why can’t I push it?

He felt He Xunye was just looking for an excuse to mess with his wife.

Tan Xueci was still facing away from He Xunye, a position that made him feel extremely insecure. He twisted his shoulders, trying to turn around, but He Xunye pressed down on his back and pinned him against the table.

The spirit turned Tan Xueci’s face and forced his lips open, his cold, slippery tongue driving deep inside.

The kisses tonight were heavy, aggressive, and crude. He sucked hard on the tip of Tan Xueci’s tongue, causing the boy to let out a sob, saliva trailing uncontrollably.

Tan Xueci’s eyelashes were soaked into clumps by his tears. His swollen lips parted as he let out muffled whimpers, trying in vain to push back against the ghost’s tongue.

“Baby,” the spirit nipped the tip of his wife’s tongue, watching with satisfaction as the small, red tongue was stretched out bit by bit while the boy wept in terror. With a dark, clammy gaze, he smiled. “Did no one ever tell you? If you want to refuse, you shouldn’t be calling me ‘husband.'”

Tan Xueci felt sticky and limp; he knew nothing anymore.

The spirit’s body was clearly ice-cold, and logically, being held skin-to-skin should have been freezing, yet his entire body felt hot, as if he were a popsicle on the verge of melting.

“We’ve met before,” the spirit finally released his swollen tongue, but suddenly asked, “Have you forgotten?”

Tan Xueci’s spine stiffened slightly. His eyelashes lowered as he tried to look away, but before he could, another slap landed, right on top of the previous mark.

Tears surged out instantly, trailing down the corners of his eyes. His misty eyes flew open. “It hurts… it hurts…”

“You haven’t forgotten,” the spirit murmured, his gaze gloomy. “Baby, don’t lie, okay?”

Tan Xueci’s back arched, his chest rubbing against the cold table as the candlelight reflected in his dazed pupils.

He and He Xunye… had indeed met. It was about a week before He Xunye’s death.

At that time, He Sui had said he wanted to do it in the car. Tan Xueci had intentionally made He Sui angry, and He Sui ignored him for several days. It wasn’t until that day that He Sui’s mood improved slightly, and he took Tan Xueci to a nightclub.

Tan Xueci didn’t know how to drink, sing, or play games. Every time, he just sat in the corner, secretly eating a little—and even then, he never ate his fill.

If he ate too much, He Sui’s friends would make fun of him.

“Young Master He,” a rich heir joked with He Sui, “why don’t you let your boyfriend join the fun?”

He Sui frowned. He only associated with these people out of boredom; they weren’t exactly good friends.

These people played rough. Calling in several “young hosts” to play together was a regular occurrence. Tan Xueci truly had a face that made people salivate; these men had been eyeing him for a long time, waiting for the day He Sui grew bored so they could have their turn with him.

He Sui never gave away his bed partners, and coupled with his flickering conscience, he knew that if Tan Xueci fell into their hands, he would be played to death. So, he hadn’t relented.

But Tan Xueci had truly angered him in the car that day. He Sui felt Tan Xueci needed a lesson. Holding a deck of cards, he said with a fake smile, “Sure.”

Tan Xueci turned his head blankly, his shoulders shrinking back. He looked completely out of place in this decadent Beijing club.

Seeing no reaction, a look of annoyance appeared on He Sui’s cold face. He tapped the cards and ordered, “Go and keep Young Master Xiao and the others company.”

That friend, Xiao An, was the one most interested in Tan Xueci. He had tried to wrap his arm around Tan Xueci’s waist several times.

Tan Xueci didn’t want to go, but he always obeyed He Sui. He stood up slowly, and then someone came over and blindfolded him with a piece of black silk.

Tan Xueci pursed his lips, standing lost in place. Most of his thin face was covered, leaving only his pale, slightly pointed chin and his ruby-red lips visible.

“It’s just a game, what are you afraid of?” Xiao An said with a smirk. “If you can find your boyfriend while blindfolded, you win.”

“He Sui…” Tan Xueci gripped the hem of his shirt helplessly. Having lost his sight, he couldn’t even stand steadily. He softly called He Sui’s name, but He Sui ignored him. He tried calling again in a small voice, “Brother…”

He Sui still ignored him.

Left with no choice, Tan Xueci tentatively walked forward, reaching out with trembling hands to feel his way.

Even in a nightclub, this kind of game was considered low-brow. Whoever’s arms you fell into was who you belonged to—being held, touched, or kissed a few times was standard procedure.

Tan Xueci was careful not to touch anyone, but since He Sui remained silent, he didn’t know where he was or which direction he was walking.

He only heard the faint sound of footsteps behind him. He turned around and reached out in that direction, only to crash unexpectedly into a man’s chest.

The man’s chest muscles were so hard it made his nose sting. Tan Xueci’s eyes watered; he tilted his small face up and hurriedly grabbed the man’s arm.

Only after holding on did he realize the person was exceptionally tall—taller than He Sui, it felt—and he carried a very cold, indifferent scent of cologne.

The muscles in the man’s arm were also hard and very hot. His body temperature was scorching, as if he possessed a heavy internal heat. It transferred through his suit jacket to Tan Xueci, making the boy’s palms sweat.

The noisy box had gone deathly silent the moment Tan Xueci grabbed him.

He Sui finally stood up, his brow furrowed. “Uncle?”

Tan Xueci heard the man beside him give a cold, indifferent hum. Then, a gaze fell upon his face like a dark flame, illuminating his pale features.

Tan Xueci tilted his head back. Although he was blindfolded and couldn’t see the face, he stood there dazed and unmoving. The man didn’t push him away either, allowing him to cling to his arm.

The man was tall and noble, wearing a cold, structured black suit. He was likely there for business. Tan Xueci was in a hoodie and worn-out white sneakers; in such a place, he looked like a poor student who had lost his way, yet standing together, they looked surprisingly well-matched.

Tan Xueci held the man’s arm tightly to his chest. Someone who didn’t know better would have thought this man was Tan Xueci’s boyfriend.

He Sui felt a sudden, inexplicable wave of discomfort. With a dark face, he stood up and walked toward the door.

No one else in the box dared to speak; the air was thick with the scent of gunpowder.

He Sui strode over, his gaze cold and somber. He grabbed Tan Xueci’s wrist and yanked him to his side.

Tan Xueci stumbled, nearly falling into He Sui’s arms. He Sui put an arm around his shoulder, looked at He Xunye, and introduced coldly, “Uncle, this is my boyfriend.”

He Xunye’s gaze remained on Tan Xueci for a few more seconds before he looked up to scan He Sui and the others in the room. This gaze was cold to the point of being caustic.

The table was covered in messy drinks, and several “young hosts” were huddling timidly together. None of the rich heirs dared to speak, having been warned by their families never to offend Mr. He.

He Sui felt very uncomfortable being looked at like a dog. His grip on Tan Xueci’s shoulder tightened.

Tan Xueci seemed to be in pain from the pinch; his face grew even paler, and he bit his lip, not daring to make a sound.

“Your father wants you home.” He Xunye paused. His words were directed at He Sui, but his gaze was fixed boldly on Tan Xueci. After speaking, he didn’t wait for a reply and simply turned to leave.

By the time Tan Xueci pulled off the black silk blindfold, his “Uncle” was already gone. He didn’t even see a back view.

“Young Master He,” a fair-weather friend said cautiously, watching He Sui’s expression, “shall we continue?”

A nameless fire burned in He Sui’s heart, making him find everyone annoying. He lost all interest in playing and took Tan Xueci away.

…

Tan Xueci now regretted it so much his “intestines turned green.” Back then, seeing He Sui constantly sleeping around, he really wanted to know what it felt like to do it with a man. He found it disgusting, yet he wanted to find a man to try it with.

He was very poor and had little money. In his simple worldview, he believed that when picking things, one should choose what is big, hard, and sturdy to ensure it lasts—he thought picking a man should be the same.

He Xunye’s chest muscles were very hard. He had been dazed when he crashed into his arms, and he had immediately clung to his arm.

Heavens.

Wasn’t this his fated husband?

A sudden, intense sense of horror rose in Tan Xueci’s heart. His waist felt terrifyingly soft. Trembling, he tried to duck out from under the ghost’s arm, but the ghost pinched his waist and pressed him firmly against the edge of the table. This time, he meant business. All of Tan Xueci’s curses were blocked in his throat, and his vision flashed between black and white.

The specter’s pupils had turned blood-red. His voice was low and raspy, like a small hook, as he said resentfully, “Bad baby. You chose this husband yourself; why won’t you acknowledge me now?”

Tan Xueci nearly stopped breathing from the shock. He felt like beating his chest in despair. How was I supposed to know that ‘hard’ meant he was a corpse?!

Tan Xueci’s snowy toes were tensed hard, barely supporting him on the floor as his upper body leaned over.

So cold.

In the past, he had envied others for building snowmen, so he had snuck out of the attic to build one on the street. Because Gao Ying didn’t allow Tan Yanning to play with “messy things,” if he built it at home, it would definitely be discovered and he would be beaten.

But when he went to see it the next day, the poor little snowman had been sliced open by someone using a thick, hard icicle. Its stomach was cold and drafty.

He Xunye didn’t feel sorry for the little snowman; he probably thought the person did a good job.

Tan Xueci was dizzy with anger. He wanted to slap He Xunye again, but he couldn’t muster any strength in this position. His tears flowed like a river.

Seeing him crying so miserably, He Xunye lowered his head, grabbed the boy’s hand, and swung it against his own face in a slap.

“Didn’t you want to ‘cheat’ with me?” The ghost, with a slap mark on his face, leaned down to kiss the boy’s fingertips. His dark peach-blossom eyes were now flooded with blood-red. He gave a low chuckle, his tone both tender and infuriating as he congratulated him: “Baby, your wish has come true.”

Tan Xueci: “…”

Tan Xueci had never wanted to kill a ghost so much in his life.

He Xunye was truly a disgusting ghost. He didn’t even “eat the popsicle” properly, stirring it until it was sticky and soaking wet, leaving a small puddle on the floor that Tan Xueci nearly slipped on.

Tan Xueci grit his teeth, kicking wildly and striking He Xunye’s shins. He even grabbed a nearby candle to hit him, red wax splashing like blood onto He Xunye’s face.

But the wax was uncontrolled. It didn’t hit He Xunye, but accidentally splashed onto his own back. The unhardened wax trailed down his snowy-white, slightly recessed spine. Tan Xueci’s watery pupils trembled, and for a moment, he couldn’t even make a sound.

Then came the third slap.

“Bad boy,” the spirit lovingly kissed the shoulder of the “stupid little sheep” while scolding him, “why did you want to cheat?”

Tan Xueci clutched his stomach, unable to make a sound. He felt as though his body was broken. There was a giant block of ice inside him, yet every slap from He Xunye landed in the same spot, leaving a burning pain. He panted like a cat, his tongue out, feeling inexplicably as if he were truly being judged for “cheating.”

“You seduced me…” Tan Xueci said with a soft, nasal voice, panting with every breath as he wept in grievance. “It was you who seduced me…”

His head was dizzy and swollen. In a strange surge of guilt, he gradually lost the will to resist.

But after being dazed for a while, He Xunye’s corpse-cold hand stroked him, and he instantly broke into a cold sweat. He suddenly remembered that the person behind him was a ghost—he didn’t want to spend his whole life with a ghost.

He began to struggle again, but his head was pinned down. He Xunye’s cold fingertips threaded through his black hair, pressing his small face against his own spirit tablet. Tan Xueci’s tears and saliva ran wild, making the dark tablet soaking wet.

The spirit coaxed in a low voice: “Baby, hold on.”

Tan Xueci’s brain had stopped working. He reached out and hugged the cold spirit tablet, shivering instantly. The dark, freezing tablet was pressed tightly against his soft chest. The tips of his ears turned a deep red instantly; it felt like he was doing something bad in front of his husband’s shrine…

…

He Sui had been lying down for a long time but couldn’t sleep. He saw that the candles in Tan Xueci’s room were still lit, and thinking Tan Xueci was still awake waiting for He Xunye, he couldn’t help but walk over.

Tan Xueci heard the footsteps outside through his haze, and his chaotic mind finally cleared slightly.

They had known each other for many years, after all; he was very familiar with He Sui’s footsteps. His tense body suddenly went soft, and he stopped struggling, lying there obediently.

The smile on the spirit’s lips vanished instantly. His eyes were jet-black and cold, carrying a heavy, sinister aura.

He thought Tan Xueci wanted to push him away, unwilling to let He Sui hear him being touched by someone else. But Tan Xueci reached back with a cold, soft arm and hooked it around his neck.

The spirit paused, finally realizing something. He hoisted the boy’s thighs to pull him higher, his tone carrying a strange delight. “Are you using me to get revenge on him?”

Tan Xueci bit his lip until it was swollen. He was exactly the type of person to seek revenge for even the smallest grievance. He had listened to He Sui and Tan Yanning for over an hour; He Sui should have to listen to him too.

It was a rare opportunity; if he missed it, there wouldn’t be a next time.

He raised his wet, red eyes. His body was burning hot and soft, but he forced a blank expression. “Are you unwilling?”

“Not at all,” the spirit’s gaze fell on him with greed and lingering affection. He couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, then tilted his head to kiss the boy’s lips. His voice was raspy as he said, “I am at your service.”

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