Yue Wu Huan thought his eyes were about to be gouged out by the Celestial Lord, his whole body trembling with tension.
After completing his examination, Song Qing Shi asked in confusion, "Are you cold?"
Yue Wu Huan shook his head stiffly.
"If your eyes are not bothering you, we can defer their treatment," Song Qing Shi prioritized his concerns, then returned to the table to remove his gloves. Picking up a bead imbued with spiritual energy, he continued, "I found a white powdery substance between your fingernails containing elements of Deer Spring Grass and Beguiling Flower, both of which are potent aphrodisiacs. Moreover, the scent on your clothing and feather skirt contained elements that attract feline creatures. This is why the demon tiger targeted you during the Grand Floral Banquet."
He discovered...
Yue Wu Huan thought in despair.
This was the loophole he had found after skirting the edge of the slave seal rules many times: slaves can't harm themselves, slaves must obey their masters, yet masters are pleased to see their slaves humiliated or killed for sport.
All he could access were love potions. By enhancing the hallucinogenic elements several-fold, he could cause animals to lose their reason.
Thus, he timed everything perfectly, employing wax pellets for delayed drug release within the demon tiger. With himself doused in an attractive scent, he staged a performance after the atmosphere heated up. Influenced by the drug, the demon tiger would certainly choose him as its prey. He feigned a love-struck demeanor, and the guests assumed it was part of Jin Fei Ruo's entertainment, applauding in approval.
Concerned with maintaining face and pleased with a new favorite, Jin Fei Ruo wouldn't dampen his guests' moods. Hesitating for just a moment would cause the demon tiger to go berserk and shred its victim.
Acting with a death wish, Yue Wu Huan had never considered surviving while his true intentions were exposed.
Within the Jin Feng Villa, slaves who showed signs of disobedience were severely punished, let alone committing an act like plotting against their master—something that clearly violated the rules. But what did it matter now?
Yue Wuhuan's frantic mind began to cool down. He recalled the humiliation he'd been through when he first became a slave, his unwillingness to submit, and his Wood Elemental Spirit Root which was ideal for recovery. Controlled by the Pleasure Mark, he was forced to degrade himself in unthinkable ways, even admitting that he was more promiscuous than the most debauched courtesan. Because the beasts found him unresponsive in bed, they used countless drugs to sensitize his body, to the point where even the friction from ordinary fabric would be intolerable.
Each time he thought he had reached the depths of hell, he'd find hell had deeper corners still. Finally realizing that his despair and resistance would only give those people more joy, he abandoned his futile struggles, as well as the idea of ever freeing himself from the Pleasure Mark while alive.
His body was already filthy to the core, disgusting enough to warrant destruction...
Heaven knew that when the demon tiger lunged at him to tear him apart, he felt not pain, but the ultimate pleasure.
Whether it was gouging out his eyes, amputating his limbs to turn him into a medicine doll, subjecting him to abuse in a brothel, or throwing him to beasts for their amusement—nothing could inflict any more pain upon him.
Yue Wuhuan suppressed his smile, dropping all pretenses. He glanced at the Mind-Control Bead with an irreverent challenge: "Now that you know, what do you plan to do?"
Song Qingshi declared unequivocally: "Someone is trying to harm you!"
Yue Wuhuan almost choked. He thought he had misheard: "What?"
Song Qingshi felt his reasoning was impeccable—even though he didn't read many novels, his senior sister told him protagonists were always good people. Since evil protagonists couldn't pass domestic censorship, and the system's introduction mentioned the protagonist's tragic fate, it was clear that the current injuries were part of the original story's plot.
Based on social news he'd seen, he speculated that someone within Jin Feng Villa was jealous of the protagonist's beauty and favor. They had drugged him! So, Song 'Holmes' Qingshi, after careful thought, concluded, "I suspect it was the person who dressed you that day. I'll investigate later and clear your name."
"No," Yue Wuhuan felt his mouth twitch involuntarily. He couldn't believe that an Immortal Lord could be this naïve, but the other man seemed earnest about proving his own foolishness. Finally, he stiffly replied, "No need..."
Seeing Yue Wuhuan's apparent kindness, Song Qingshi felt even more certain of his hypothesis. He stuffed the Mind-Control Bead into Yue Wuhuan's hand, "This is yours, keep it."
Yue Wuhuan realized that the Mind-Control Bead had not been imprinted with new mental commands, leaving him stunned.
"I looked into this thing," Song Qingshi explained, "the Pleasure Mark involves curses, quite complex. Yaowang Valley doesn't have the method to break the curse, so I've sent out a reward offer through Ye Yu Pavilion. The Pavilion Master said it would take some time to get a response."
Yue Wuhuan paused for a long moment before hoarsely asking, "What... What's the price I must pay?"
Song Qingshi had been helped by many without expecting anything in return. He'd also helped many, asking for nothing.
In his eyes, the Pleasure Mark was an evil violation of human dignity, the root cause of the protagonist's suffering. Like a chain on a bird's foot, it needed to be removed naturally once the bird was rescued. It wasn't even worth mentioning.
So, he generously replied, "Just focus on your treatment and get well."
A servant reported that the medicine boiling in the courtyard was almost ready.
Song Qingshi hurried out to check on the medication, aiming to ensure its efficacy was optimized.
Yue Wuhuan incredulously stared at the Mind-Control Bead in his hands, his already anxious mind thrown further into disarray.
In his understanding of the world, the most expensive things were those given without a price...
The renowned Medicine Lord was known throughout the celestial realm for his cold-hearted indifference, devoid of any compassion. What did he want from him? His body? His life? Or perhaps his soul? Yue Wuhuan thought for a long while, eventually breaking into a laugh. He gripped the Mind-Control Bead tightly, resolute to risk it all. To break his chains, he was willing to do anything, even if it meant selling his soul to the devil.
When Yue Wuhuan saw Song Qingshi bring in the medicine, he quickly assessed what impression he should present to the other and what the other might need from him. He put on an obedient and submissive expression, cautiously lifting his eyes for a stolen glance, showing just the right amount of gratitude, and allowing Song Qingshi to administer the treatment.
Such an obedient patient! He complied with every request from the doctor, no matter how disgusting the medicine tasted, or how painful or irritating the injections were. He even thanked the doctor in soft, gentle tones. Song Qingshi found caring for him extremely rewarding and wished all patients were as cooperative.
Yue Wuhuan's Wood Elemental Spirit Root allowed for remarkable healing. The wound on his shoulder scabbed over in just five days.
After examination, Song Qingshi permitted him to get out of bed and move around, instructing him to get more sunlight as he prepared for the next course of treatment.
Whether it was the original Medicine Lord or the current Song Qingshi, neither cared much for attire. The patient's gowns prepared by the servants were made of simple cotton fabric, comfortable for the average person, but agonizingly abrasive for Yue Wuhuan. He dared not wander far from his chamber, pausing every few steps.
In the night, Song Qingshi noticed Yue Wuhuan's irregular gait and came to inspect. A simple touch on his collarbone nearly led to an unfortunate incident.
Yue Wuhuan looked at Song Qingshi's startled face and his crystal-clear eyes, devoid of any impure thoughts. A long-absent sense of shame welled up within him. Unable to bear the soft touch any longer, he recoiled into a dark corner.
Purity and desire, cleanliness and filth—the stark contrasts underscored the harshness of reality.
Yue Wuhuan kept repeating a truth he'd understood a long time ago deep in his heart.
Even if the Pleasure Mark were to be removed, he could never go back to who he was before...
Song Qingshi awkwardly withdrew his hand and looked at the figure hidden in the dark, opening his mouth but finding himself at a loss for words.
Yue Wuhuan quickly realized his mistake. The other already knew he was not pure; attempting to hide it would only make things more awkward. He swiftly regulated his breathing and gradually unfolded himself from the dark recesses.
Smiling, he lifted his eyes to meet Song Qingshi's and used the flirtatious words he'd long become accustomed to: "It's quite warm; would my lord like to inspect your servant's body?"
Rather than being discovered in a humiliating state, he preferred to display his shamelessness. As long as he could convince himself he had no shame, his heart would not ache.
Song Qingshi snapped awake before Yue Wuhuan could unfasten his belt, swiftly drawing all the bed curtains closed, veiling the room's suggestive atmosphere.
The sultry tone in Yue Wuhuan's voice abruptly ceased.
Calmly, Song Qingshi declared, "It's too late; the patient needs to rest."
Yue Wu Huan sat dumbfounded inside the tent, watching the faint silhouette outside extinguish the luminescent pearl and light the incense burner. A gentle fragrance infused with agarwood wafted in, soothing his burning body. Gradually, he lay down and withdrew into the solitary darkness.
He suddenly realized that tonight he wouldn't suffer bodily abuse, wouldn't have to endure nauseating words, and wouldn't be forced to act servile and submissive. The air was bereft of any lurid smells, replaced by an indescribable freshness that began to lull his usually alert mind, making it hard for him to keep his eyes open as he drifted into sleep.
There were no visions of hell in this dream—only the sweet scent of a white magnolia tree outside his childhood window.
Slowly, he relaxed his body, fully immersing himself in this long-forgotten sweet dream.
...
Song Qing Shi stood outside the tent for a long time, lost in thought.
Confirming that the tranquilizing incense had taken effect, he turned back, holding the luminescent pearl, gently lifting the curtain and sitting at the bedside. He employed his spiritual sense to reexamine the myriad problems hidden within this battered body.
After a long moment, he withdrew his spiritual awareness and looked quietly at Yue Wu Huan's face. The eyes were tightly shut, and the youth, now entirely relaxed, had lost his seductive demeanor. He resembled a slumbering wildcat that had retracted its claws and lowered its guard, as if forgetting all its past suffering and revealing its true self.
Free, proud, defiant...
His life should never have come to this point.
Song Qingshi gently tucked in the quilt and carefully brushed Yue Wuhuan's disheveled hair behind his ears, whispering a vow:
"I will heal you."