Quick Travel: Save the poor little villain

Blue Delight Hotel, Suite.

Liang Yanze put the suitcase in the cloakroom, turned and walked towards the desk, preparing to handle emails for Zhou Chengjun, when his eyes fixed.

The shell with the strange pattern lay next to his computer.

Liang Yanze sat at the table, looking at the shells in silence, an almost absurd feeling slowly creeping up his spine.

The air stagnated for a moment, and then the chill in the tarsal bones appeared again.

The cold and sticky touch was like a veil with substance, slowly covering the back of his neck and sliding down his spine, bringing about an uncontrollable shudder.

Liang Yanze's negotiation skills in dealing with difficult customers and business rivals are useless at this moment.

The people he faced were not people who could be moved by logic and interests.

"...You," Liang Yanze took a deep breath and forced himself to steady his voice, although the ending tone still inevitably trembled.

"What exactly do you want to do?"

The room was very quiet and Liang Yanze could hear his own rapid heartbeat.

After a moment, a deep and pleasant male voice sounded in his ears, as if it could penetrate the eardrum and reach his mind.

"Wife."

Liang Yanze: “……?”

He was blank for a few seconds, and even suspected that he was hallucinating because of the fatigue of the past few days.

"...You want me to help you find...your wife?" he asked cautiously, his eyes behind the glasses scanning the room.

"You are, wife, mine." The voice sounded again.

As the words came, a cold touch wrapped around him, almost embedding into his skin.

"good smell."

During this time, there were more unclear, sticky whispers ringing in my ears.

It was like some kind of ancient language, or like the whispers of lovers. I couldn't understand the meaning, but it made my scalp tingle for no reason.

Liang Yanze felt unwell.

He had lived for nearly thirty years and had encountered all kinds of difficult things, but never one of them was being recognized as his wife by a non-human object.

Liang Yanze's brain was working rapidly. This thing obviously did not have the normal human thinking logic.

He needs information and bargaining chips.

"Just because she picked up shells..." he chose his words carefully, "does that mean she's going to be my wife? This might be a misunderstanding."

"No," Jinchen immediately retorted, extremely persistently, "It can only be you."

Liang Yanze felt the sticky entanglement tightening even more.

He tried to move his shoulders. "What if... I say I can't accept it?"

"No." Jinchen became a little annoyed.

The surrounding temperature dropped a few degrees.

The next second, Liang Yanze clearly felt that the invisible restraints had changed, condensing into soft tentacles, tightly wrapping around him from behind.

It's like a human hug, but tighter and without any gaps.

The tentacles fit tightly against Liang Yanze's back, wrapped around his arms and waist, and even moved slowly upwards, brushing against his jaw lightly, easily taking away his breath.

Liang Yanze's eyes behind the lenses were a little dazed due to excessive restraint and lack of oxygen.

He realized that a head-on confrontation would never work.

"...I'm in pain." Liang Yanze slowed down his voice and said suddenly.

Jinchen felt inexplicably distressed, which made him extremely uncomfortable.

He loosened his grip a little, but his tentacles still lingered around Liang Yanze, unwilling to leave completely.

Liang Yanze finally got some breathing space.

He lowered his head slightly, his chest heaving, and took a few deep breaths to calm his rapid heart rate.

Before he could catch his breath, another chill came over him, sticking to his chest where his shirt was slightly open.

A cold air was circulating, and from a distance, the part above Liang Yanze's chest was almost swallowed by the blurry and twisted mist.

Liang Yanze's body trembled.

He lowered his eyes, his fingertips dug deep into the soft surface of the sofa, squeezing until his knuckles turned white, trying to maintain his composure.

Vague thoughts flashed through my mind.

Liang Yanze raised his head, and although his face was still a little pale, he looked at the twisted black fog in the air and spoke softly.

"You need my blood, don't you?"

Jinchen stopped moving.

"Yes," he admitted honestly, even aggrievedly, "I'm hungry."

Liang Yanze felt a little relieved.

It’s good to have demand. Having demand means we can talk about it.

His tone was calm, even guiding, "...then you should get out of the way first."

Jinchen hesitated for a moment, reluctant to leave this warm and seductive body.

But he did hurt his wife just now.

And my wife seems to know how to feed him.

The tentacles slowly and reluctantly retreated, leaving enough space.

She was even considerate enough to push the silver fruit knife from the fruit bowl on the coffee table to Liang Yanze's hand.

Liang Yanze looked at the knife that was moved to his side and sat up straight. His shirt was a little messy from the previous struggle, revealing his collarbone and chest.

He was silent and slowly rolled up the sleeve of his left shirt.

The lines of the forearms were smooth and the skin was fair, but on the skin, a few very faint old scars could be vaguely seen.

Liang Yanze's gaze lingered on those old scars for a moment, his eyes deepened a little, and his emotions could not be seen clearly.

Then he picked up the fruit knife.

The blade is cold.

Liang Yanze's movements were steady, and he lightly stroked his forearm.

A long and thin scar appeared, which was much shallower than the one Jinchen had made last night. Blood slowly seeped out, gathering into small streams and sliding down the fair skin of the arm.

The interweaving of red and white is cruel, ambiguous and eye-catching.

As blood oozed out, the black mist couldn't wait to cover it, gently and quickly covering the wound.

The cool touch licked across the skin, giving a mixture of tingling and shuddering sensations.

Jinchen felt so satisfied that his consciousness became lazy.

He sighed with contentment and clung to Liang Yanze's body again, his strength much gentler, more like he was acting coquettishly.

"Wife," he whispered contentedly in a low, magnetic voice, lazily after a full meal, "You smell so good."

Liang Yanze's eyelashes trembled slightly, but he did not respond.

He lowered his eyes and looked at the wound on his arm that healed quickly, leaving only a faint red mark. He silently reached out, took off his glasses from his nose, and placed them beside the sofa.

Without the protection of the lenses, the pair of gentle eyes narrowed and the pupils became a little dilated.