Jinbao Marries a Wife

Jinbao really had to marvel at his own ox-like strength. Even though his fingers could no longer move and his lower body felt like it had disappeared, he still didn’t pass out. He stayed fully conscious the whole time, from dusk until dawn, as Que Siming tormented him.

By the end, he couldn’t even shoot anything out anymore, and finally, Que Siming was exhausted and satisfied, letting him go. Jinbao felt like the night had stretched out to eternity, so long that no matter how much he screamed and cried, it never seemed to end. Was Que Siming even human? That was a beast in human form.

But Doctor Que didn’t see it that way. The reckless indulgence had left him feeling utterly refreshed. Yes, he was tired beyond belief, but he was completely satisfied, inside and out. As the flood of desire receded, he looked at Jinbao and realized he might have gone a little too far this time.

He pulled Jinbao into his arms, grabbed a clean towel from the bedside, and soaked it in water to wipe him down.

The kid found a bit of strength and angrily pushed him away.

“Don’t move, stop struggling, let me wipe you off. Save your energy.”

Hearing this, Jinbao stopped moving. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and bit hard into Que Siming’s arm. His sharp teeth were naturally gifted; he didn’t need to bite too hard to make it hurt. Que Siming winced, pulling his arm back, cursing, “You really bit me, you bastard.”

Jinbao, his voice muffled by the bite, cursed as well, “Que Siming, you heartless bastard, you treat me like this, I’ll bite you to death!”

Que Siming chuckled, tensing his arm, waiting until Jinbao’s jaw was aching before he finally let go on his own.

“Feel better now?” Que Siming asked, gripping Jinbao’s chin, lifting his head off his arm, and flipping him over so his back was pressed against the bed. He took the towel and gently cleaned up the mess between Jinbao’s legs.

“How did I mistreat you? There’s not an inch of your body I haven’t seen or touched. What’s the big deal? You didn’t lose any flesh.”

“Go to hell, you.”

Doctor Que snorted and, amid Jinbao’s constant cursing, wiped him clean. He pulled the crumpled bedsheets that looked like wrinkled pickles onto the floor and replaced them with fresh ones from the closet. After cleaning himself up as well, he finally pulled a clean Jinbao back into bed, holding him close.

Jinbao hated being held like that, so he tried to push him away with his knees.

Que Siming just tightened his arms around him, locking him in place with his legs over Jinbao’s lower body. “Don’t move, stop it. Are you asking for trouble? Or is your backside still itching for more?”

This threat worked quite effectively; the kid’s body stiffened, and he didn’t dare to move.

Que Siming adjusted him into a more comfortable position, letting him lie on top of him. He breathed in the warmth of Jinbao’s presence, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment. Only by holding him tightly, by possessing him completely, could Que Siming feel secure. It reassured him that this person wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t suddenly grow cold like his mother did and never speak again. He wouldn’t suddenly vanish like his father, disappearing forever, unreachable. Jinbao would remain warm in his arms, and holding him was like holding his entire world. Embracing him felt like they could live through eternity together. Even if someone offered him all the treasures in the world, he wouldn’t let go of the person in his arms. Jinbao was the only real thing, the only person who brought him comfort, the one he truly needed.

Que Siming pulled the blanket over the two of them and gently massaged Jinbao’s waist, speaking in a soft, lazy voice, softened by the release of tension. “Alright, stop being angry. Every time I go a bit too hard, you get mad. Looks like you won’t have to worry about doing anything else in this lifetime.”

“Is that what I’m angry about? Don’t you know why I’m really upset?”

Que Siming chuckled lightly, his lips brushing against Jinbao’s forehead. “Isn’t it because you made me mad first? It wasn’t even anything serious, just something amusing. I thought it was kind of fun.”

Jinbao muttered angrily, “Fun, my ass.”

Que Siming turned over, still holding him tightly, their faces pressed together, forehead to forehead. His bright, captivating eyes stared directly into Jinbao’s, a playful expression lingering in his gaze. “Don’t be mad anymore. I haven’t touched you in days, and I’ve missed you like crazy. Think about all the dumb things you’ve done lately. Do you know how much trouble I’ve gone through for you? In the end, you’re the one in the wrong, so you can’t keep being angry, right?”

Jinbao knew he was at fault. Now that Que Siming had brought it up, his anger deflated a bit. But his pride wouldn’t let him admit it, so he just closed his eyes.

The doctor stuck out his tongue and licked Jinbao’s eyelids, making the area around his eyes wet before moving down to his lips, kissing him gently.

It was a kiss after desire, pure and simple, incredibly sweet and tender, the kind that makes your heart feel like it’s floating.

“Don’t be angry. Open your eyes and look at me. Did you miss me these past few days?”

Que Siming’s tone held a trace of playfulness and expectation, an unusual moment of tenderness and softness that left Jinbao stunned.

Jinbao was always a straightforward kid, honest to a fault. If someone treated him poorly, he wouldn’t be kind in return, but if someone treated him well, he felt compelled to give back double. If Que Siming came at him aggressively, Jinbao’s stubborn streak would kick in, and he’d fight back. But with Que Siming’s gentle words, his defenses crumbled, and he couldn’t keep up his angry facade.

Que Siming continued to knead his sore waist with just the right amount of pressure, his voice soft and coaxing. “Do you miss me?”

Jinbao squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head, but the tickle of Que Siming’s nose against his cheek forced him to open them again. With a deep sigh and after a long pause, he mumbled, “I do.”

Que Siming laughed quietly, gently rubbing Jinbao’s back. “I know you feel wronged. I’ll make sure to kill Yu Mingjing, and when I capture Lou Jingyu, I’ll hand him over to you to deal with.”

“Yeah, you better. I’ll beat him until he’s rolling in the dirt.”

“Of course.” Que Siming thought to himself that he’d castrate the man while he was at it. Ruiyi Tower was not a force to be trifled with, but anyone who dared to strip his lover’s clothes wouldn’t be forgiven.

The two held each other quietly for a little longer. As daylight crept in, Que Siming, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, kissed Jinbao and said, “I need to head back to the Medicine Valley. If my master finds out, I’ll have to face another round of endless questioning. It’s so annoying. Last time, when he found out I kept a courtesan in the past, he yelled at me for a whole day. Luckily, he doesn’t know about us. You won’t be able to return to Medicine Valley for now, but don’t worry, I’ll settle things soon and bring you back.”

“Alright…”

“You can stay here for now. I’ll come visit when I can. Don’t wander around, okay? I’ll have people watching the area to make sure you’re safe.”

“Okay.”

“I’m leaving then.” Que Siming jumped out of bed and began dressing.

Jinbao hesitated before calling out, “Hey, your senior brother…”

Que Siming’s mood soured at the mention, frowning slightly. “He’s fine. Ayu’s fine too.”

Jinbao let out a relieved breath. “That’s good.”

Before leaving, Que Siming reminded him multiple times, “Remember, don’t run around.”

After Que Siming left, Jinbao fell into a deep sleep. When he woke up again, it was already dark outside.

Life had become a blur, with days and nights all mixed up. Jinbao lay in bed groaning, feeling both hungry and weak. His body felt like it had fallen apart, and nothing seemed to want to move. He started to wonder if he might just starve to death in bed.

As he debated how to get up and call someone to bring him food, a knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” Jinbao lifted his head to ask.

“Sir, I’ve brought you some food.”

“Oh, come in, come in.” Jinbao didn’t bother questioning how the servant had shown up so timely. His stomach was growling, and his throat was parched and sore. All he could think about was getting some food into his system.

The door creaked open, and the servant walked in with a tray of steaming food, setting it down on the table and lighting the lamp in the room.

The once dark room was now bathed in light. Jinbao tried to push himself up, but his whole body ached. He could move, but every movement hurt. Cursing Que Siming under his breath, he forced himself to crawl out of bed, only to realize with embarrassment that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. The crumpled sheets were strewn across the floor, and his torn clothes were scattered everywhere. The situation was more than a little suspicious, and when he became fully aware of it, his face turned red with embarrassment.

“Uh…” Jinbao racked his brain, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

The servant glanced around at the mess, then looked at Jinbao’s bare upper body, taking note of the scattered love bites across his skin. His eyes darkened slightly.

“Sir, you should eat. Are you having trouble moving? Do you need help?”

“Oh, no, no need for that.”

“Don’t be so polite, let me help you.” The servant made a move to support him.

Jinbao quickly waved his hands, “No, no, I can manage myself. You… how about you just fetch me some clothes? They’re in that bundle on the table.”

The servant turned and retrieved the clothes, then handed them to Jinbao.

Just as Jinbao reached out to take them, the servant suddenly pulled the clothes back with a sly smile. “Sir, I see you’re having trouble moving. Why don’t I help you dress?” His gaze lingered suggestively on Jinbao’s chest.

Jinbao, not noticing the servant’s lecherous intentions, thought he genuinely wanted to help. His face turned bright red. “No, no, really, there’s no need. Just give me the clothes.” He reached out, trying to snatch them.

But the servant pulled the clothes back again, grabbed Jinbao’s hand, and yanked him forward with a forceful tug. Caught off guard, Jinbao stumbled, his body pitching forward. In the next moment, everything spun, and he found himself being slammed back onto the bed.

Dazed from the fall, Jinbao’s vision swam with stars. His body was already sore and stiff, and now every inch of his bare skin was exposed to the cold air.

The servant pinned his hands down, a twisted grin spreading across his otherwise plain face. “No need to be shy, sir. Let me help you get dressed. After all, with a body so well-loved like yours, it wouldn’t do for anyone else to see. Even I feel tempted looking at you.”

Jinbao’s mind went blank, his body freezing in shock. That voice—he’d recognize it anywhere. It was Rong Yue’s voice!

With a sudden roar, Jinbao gathered every ounce of strength left in his body and lashed out with a kick aimed at the servant’s back. His movements were swift and precise, but the servant easily caught his leg and slammed him back onto the bed with a strength that left Jinbao breathless.

Now completely exposed, Jinbao’s face flushed with panic as the servant’s cold eyes scanned his swollen, red lower body, clearly visible in the lamplight.

Desperation flared in Jinbao. He raised a fist to strike, but his punch was intercepted mid-air. He couldn’t comprehend how those thin, pale arms held so much power.

The servant’s gaze lingered coldly on his lower body before slowly raising his head to meet Jinbao’s eyes. With that same chilling smile, and in Rong Yue’s voice, he whispered mockingly, “Brother Jinbao, it’s been days since we last met. I’ve missed you terribly. And what a sight to greet me with—such a beautiful show, just for me.”