Having an exceptional memory is not necessarily a good thing.
It means he can vividly remember every hurt, every nightmare, using them to torment himself over and over again.
At night, the calming incense couldn't suppress the inner pain; he found himself back at Jin Feng Mountain Manor, entrapped in a golden birdcage in his dreams.
The "He Huan" mark on his back tingled with warmth, his body immobilized. Forced to sit on the ground, he watched the young entertainers perform one ludicrous act after another.
In this world, so tainted and vile, even the air seemed too filthy to breathe...
Yet his desires were forcibly provoked and cruelly toyed with.
So dirty, so disgusting.
In despair, Yue Wuhuan curled himself into a ball, attempting to evade one reaching hand after another. He wanted to cut off every inch of his flesh that had been touched. Covered in filth and utterly humiliated, he felt suffocated, dying again and again. Each time he woke, he found himself back in the cage, reliving the previous nightmare, losing his sanity and giving up the struggle, allowing his body to be utterly ruined.
Suddenly, a blazing red lotus fire destroyed the cage, and the clear scent of medicinal herbs dispersed the polluted air.
He realized that the whispers and gossip around him had disappeared. Cautiously, he opened his eyes and saw a young man dressed in snowy garments before him.
The young man bore no filthy scent, no dirty desires in his eyes. He extended a hand from layers of sleeves, even his fingertips carrying an air as clean as fresh snow.
It took Yue Wuhuan a long time to understand that this hand was extended toward him.
Filled with a trace of yearning, he wished to touch the cleanest existence in the world. But just as he raised his hand, he saw the red marks on his wrist and the grime in his palm, and hastily withdrew his filthy hand. He wanted to hide it behind him, but caught sight of the traces of his past liaisons; there was not a single clean part of him.
"Don't touch me; you'll dirty your hands..."
"Don't look at me; you'll dirty your eyes..."
"Don't save me; just kill me..."
Filled with terror, he retreated incessantly until he was hidden in darkness, no longer able to see his own body.
The young man stubbornly approached, reaching out again and again, until he stepped into the darkness, leaving Yue Wuhuan with no escape. In the end, the young man took off his immaculate snowy garments and draped them over him, drawing him into his arms as if handling the most precious treasure, methodically removing his shackles and gently wiping away his stains.
In those earnest eyes, all he saw was his own reflection. The clear breath twined around his nose, and the soft fingertips seemed like sparks, igniting his own desire. His heart was sinking, his reason dissipating, morphing into a terrifying monster, wanting to possess, wanting to devour the young man whole, wanting to keep him forever.
Wanting to madly defile him...
Desiring to greedily defile this purity...
Wanting to repay kindness with betrayal...
Yue Wuhuan panted, suddenly pushing away the young man's tenderness. He knew he could not get any closer.
Observing his body's agitated response, the young man pondered for a moment and placed a red "Divine Thought Bead" into his palm.
The bead emanated a scorching sensation, flowing smoothly with his divine thoughts.
Yue Wuhuan felt the "He Huan" mark on his back dissipating quickly. His body's shackles were completely undone, yet his desires continued to spread wildly.
Following his desires, the young man slowly removed his own garment, unfastened the white jade crown, and let down his soft, fine hair. A seductive red marking appeared on his fair skin. His cold aura was invaded by desire, as if a sacred deity had stepped onto the altar of hell and fallen into the arms of a demon. In the most lucid voice, he articulated the words Yue Wuhuan longed to hear:
"You can defile me."
"You can do anything you wish to me."
"Whatever you desire, I will give you all of it."
"Including myself."
"..."
All his wildest thoughts became reality.
Unable to maintain his sanity any longer, the demon gradually claimed every inch of territory, violating each breath.
Committing sacrilege.
...
Yue Wuhuan opened his eyes, still smelling the lingering scent of sweetness mixed with herbal aroma. He slowly turned his head and suddenly saw Song Qingshi leaning at the bedside, holding a lamp made from a luminous pearl. His eyes, illuminated by the pearl's glow, were intently focused on him, as if eagerly anticipating something.
Staring blankly for a while, he slowly closed his eyes, suspecting he had yet to wake up.
"Don't sleep!" Song Qingshi thwarted his intention. "Wake up, quickly!"
Finally regaining full consciousness, Yue Wuhuan spoke hoarsely, hesitating as he asked, "Honorable Master, why are you here?"
"Wuhuan, listen to me!" Song Qingshi cheerfully announced. "I've finally found a way to reduce the side effects of the 'Six Meridians Rejuvenating Soup'! So I came early to fetch you. Get up! Let's proceed with the treatment!"
Yue Wuhuan blankly gazed at the sky outside the window, which was just beginning to show a hint of dawn's light.
It must be around the fifth watch of the night now, right?
Song Qingshi had solved a problem that had been vexing him for days, and he felt exhilarated, akin to a fan whose favorite team had just won the World Cup. His head was buzzing with excitement, and he was eager to share his thoughts. The one person in the Medicine King Valley who could best understand his ideas and the source of his joy was Yue Wuhuan, so he had reluctantly waited until dawn to come get him. "Hurry, hurry!"
"Alright," Yue Wuhuan smiled. Suddenly, he paused, halting his movement to lift the blanket. He spoke softly, "Honored Master, could you please wait outside? I'll get dressed and then come out."
Finally realizing his own inconsideration, Song Qingshi recalled his days at the research institute where many experiments required 24-hour monitoring. However, he momentarily forgot that although the protagonist was male, his sexual orientation could also be male, and he should exercise discretion. His actions appeared rather inappropriate, almost like a nocturnal raid.
A misunderstanding could ruin Yue Wuhuan, who had psychological issues...
Thinking of this, Song Qingshi immediately corrected his behavior, striving to display the demeanor of an upright gentleman as he turned to leave the room.
Yue Wuhuan exhaled deeply as he lifted the blanket. He looked disdainfully at the evidence of his released desire, but couldn't help recalling the dream he'd had. The thought of that young man who had allowed him to take and do as he pleased made him involuntarily tense his abdomen. He fought to suppress his unspeakable urges so as not to sully the blank canvas before him.
He felt so dirty...
...
Song Qingshi anxiously waited outside the door for quite some time until Yue Wuhuan emerged, groomed and presentable. Assured that his demeanor was normal and that he didn't seem upset about his earlier rudeness, Song Qingshi's worries dissipated. Gleefully, he led Yue Wuhuan straight to the treatment room.
The treatment room was filled with two boxes of golden acupuncture needles.
Although acupuncture anesthesia exists in traditional Chinese medicine, it can only provide localized anesthesia. Its efficacy varies from person to person and doesn't fully relieve pain, making it far less effective than Western anesthesia. It's generally used only under very special circumstances.
Suddenly, based on the original body's memories, Song Qingshi realized that this world had special meridians and dantian, which considerably enhanced the effectiveness of acupuncture. He could also channel his spiritual energy into the needles for fine control over localized anesthesia.
With this newfound understanding, he experimented on himself several times to confirm that he could reduce the range of anesthesia in Yue Wuhuan's blocked meridians to a minimum without compromising the therapeutic effect. He could lessen the pain by fifty percent, making it bearable.
Song Qingshi spoke somewhat clumsily but finally clarified everything to Yue Wuhuan: "I'll use over two hundred golden needles to pierce your entire body. Don't worry, it won't hurt. You'll only feel a tingling sensation. Then, we'll proceed with the medicinal bath. Once your meridians are cleared, I'll remove the needles and use medicine to rebuild your dantian."
Yue Wuhuan looked at him, falling silent for a long time.
"Although the needle procedure requires you to undress and there may be physical contact, remember, I am a physician. To a physician, there are no genders, only patients," Song Qingshi reassured, as if pledging an oath. "You don't need to be on guard. I promise not to harbor or act on any strange thoughts."
But he did have strange thoughts...
Yue Wuhuan stared blankly at Song Qingshi's light pink lips, recalling the scenes from his dream. His throat tightened. Taking a deep breath, he forcefully suppressed his unspeakable thoughts, loosened his belt, and softly said, "If it's you... you can touch..."
On his shoulders, only faint scars remained. His light honey-colored skin had an almost imperceptible sweet fragrance. His shoulder blades were spread like a butterfly's wings, with the markings resembling the vivid patterns of a butterfly etched onto them. The slender waist bore the lines of strength. This body was too perfect, capable of arousing desire at any moment.
Song Qing Shi pondered for a moment, deciding not to overestimate human resistance to beauty. He fetched a bath towel and wrapped it around Yue Wu Huan, then calmed his mind, using his spiritual sense to determine the right points for acupuncture, carefully inserting each needle.
"Do you feel anything?"
"Yes."
"What do you feel?"
"Aching, swelling, itching…"
Assured that the needles were accurately placed, Song Qing Shi relaxed and continued to insert them, one by one.
As he reached the upper back, he noticed a small, red birthmark on Yue Wu Huan's scapula. It resembled a tiny phoenix and was obscured by the existing tattoos, making it less noticeable.
Pausing his needlework, he observed it for a while and couldn't help but remark, "You have a rather beautiful birthmark."
"It's a hereditary gift from my mother," Yue Wu Huan, reminded of his childhood, felt some of his tension ease. "She was a dancer in the royal court, hailing from overseas. With her red hair and golden eyes, she caught my father's eye and became his concubine. Many of my features take after her."
"So, you're of mixed heritage? Your mother must have been stunning," Song Qing Shi said, feeling Yue Wu Huan relax, and continued the conversation. "Dark hair and curly locks are dominant traits. Your eyes aren't pure black, but the darker genes are more prominent, leading to an amber-like dark gold. They even have a nickname—'Angel's Pupils'..."
Yue Wu Huan didn't fully understand what was said afterward: "My mother... was indeed very beautiful..."
"What was she like?"
"She was a gentle soul; everyone in the court adored her."
"Would you like to go back and see her?" Song Qing Shi felt that reuniting with family might aid emotional healing. "I can take you there."
Yue Wu Huan's voice suddenly stopped. After a long pause, he reluctantly spoke, "There's no need. She has passed away."
Song Qing Shi's hand, holding the needle, froze in mid-air. He realized he had once again touched a sensitive issue.
"They... heard that my mother and I looked alike and wanted to abduct her for slavery," Yue Wu Huan's voice lost all emotion, the pain now a numb routine for him. "I conceded to their many abhorrent demands to save her, but... they still killed her. Fortunately, my nation was already annihilated years ago; my father and elder brother died on the battlefield, and my mother took her life in the Phoenix Pavilion alongside the queen. I'm glad they died clean deaths, without being humiliated, without seeing me reduced to this."
Song Qing Shi's heart almost melted; he couldn't find words to comfort such deep sorrow. All he wanted to do was give the person before him a hug.
He extended his hand but stopped as his fingertips almost touched the shoulder, recalling how the other detested physical contact and might become upset.
Lowering his head, he picked up the golden needle again, telling himself that things would get better.
Yue Wu Huan sensed the movement behind him and turned his head, catching sight of a slight red mark peeking from Song Qing Shi's collar.
He widened his eyes in disbelief, allowing thoughts he shouldn't entertain to enter his mind, and without hesitation, ripped open the collar to reveal what lay beneath.
Amidst the snow-white robe, around the collarbone area, were scattered spots of dark red. Contrasted against the porcelain-like skin, they were strikingly conspicuous and began to overlap with his tumultuous dreams from the night before.
The young man didn't resist, sitting obediently on the spot, his eyes seemingly puzzled, as if not understanding the emotional upheaval.
His breathing began to quicken, barely able to suppress a filthy desire.
"What is this?"