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When Xie Lian came to, he was firmly tied to a chair. He didn’t recognise the room he was in, his chair facing an undecorated wall. His head pounded something fierce. Everything between drawing Fangxin in Yin Yu’s tunnel and waking up alone was a yawning hole in his memory.
No, not alone. His senses were still swimming, his head sluggish; he didn’t sense the presence of another in the room until a hand rested firmly on his shoulder.
Jun Wu clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Xianle, my dear Xianle, look at all this mischief.”
Xie Lian froze, cold fear raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Jun Wu’s fingers flexed, massaging the tense muscle of his shoulder. It was a motion he’d made many times; Xie Lian had found it comforting in the past, but now every movement was laden with new and terrible meaning. Jun Wu stepped into his line of sight, his other hand behind his back.
“My Heavenly Capital has been in absolute disarray since you returned, chaos everywhere,” Jun Wu hummed thoughtfully. He gave Xie Lian’s shoulder another squeeze and then tipped his chin up with the crook of his finger, forcing their eyes to meet. “What am I to do with you?”
“Untying me would be excellent,” Xie Lian said, but his voice came out less authoritative and acerbic than he’d intended, wavering in the face of Jun Wu’s placid gaze.
Jun Wu’s lips lifted indulgently at the corners. His eyes even crinkled a little, as though there was something in that that he found genuinely funny. “I’m sure it would. But Xianle is so disobedient, how can I be sure that he won’t run off again and cause trouble? Better to keep you here where I can keep an eye on you.”
Xie Lian swallowed around a hard lump in his throat and it tasted like betrayal. The man before him was the closest thing he’d had to a mentor in eight hundred years, a father figure if only he’d ever had need for one; Jun Wu had been the man who vanquished Xie Lian’s greatest fear, the killer of Bai Wuxiang. Jun Wu had been the only steady presence in his turbulent life. Now even that had been taken from him.
He experimentally pulled against his bindings and found them totally immovable. Xie Lian could feel the sadness radiating from Ruoye as the spiritual weapon drooped miserably against him, tying them both in a dead knot.
Jun Wu cocked his head, smiling like a parent watching a child explore. His eyes followed Xie Lian’s every movement. “Are you done?”
Xie Lian glared up at him, cheeks flushing. Jun Wu spun him around until he was facing the opposite end of the room, the wall covered from floor to ceiling with a large, ornate mirror. The polished surface reflected Xie Lian with his ankles and wrists tied to the chair, Jun Wu standing regally behind him like some gross parody of a loving father and son.
“Where is Yin Yu?” Xie Lian demanded. Jun Wu lazily waved a hand and the surface of the mirror clarified, now showing what was on the other side of the glass rather than their reflection. Yin Yu knelt in Qi Ying Palace, vigorously shaking a bruised and bloody Quan Yizhen.
“Don’t worry about them,” Jun Wu said mildly, as though he were talking about the weather. “They just need some time to reflect on their mistakes.”
Another wave of his hand and the surface of the mirror re-formed again, Yin Yu and Quan Yizhen melting away. Instead of Qi Ying Palace the mirror looked out over an empty room, one that Xie Lian didn’t recognise. Jun Wu’s fingers drummed against the back of the chair.
“Speaking of keeping an eye out — it appears that Xianle has become rather close with Crimson Rain these last few months,” Jun Wu mused. “I imagine it won’t be long before he comes looking for you.”
Xie Lian tensed at the mention of Hua Cheng, his heart trying to beat out of his chest. Jun Wu’s deceptively casual interest in Hua Cheng flooded his body with adrenaline and he struggled to sit still, his muscles screaming at him that his companion was in danger, danger, danger. He daren’t even breathe, terrified of this line of conversation. That Hua Cheng would come was not in question. Whether he should come was another matter.
“Wh—” Xie Lian blurted in surprise as he felt himself being lifted into the air, stomach lurching. Jun Wu lifted Xie Lian and the chair effortlessly and walked them towards the mirror, the surface giving way before them like a sheer waterfall. The room had no windows and no doors, just a simple floor and plain walls. The mirror was the only way in and out. When Xie Lian looked back he could see into the antechamber they’d just been in. Jun Wu set the chair down in the middle of the floor, kneeling before him to carefully untie Ruoye. The silk band sagged and released Xie Lian as soon as it was free. Jun Wu wrangled it carefully like a snake, tying it in knots in several places until it was looped back on itself and neutralised once more.
Something sharp like despair twinged in his chest. Knelt before Xie Lian and releasing him from bindings that he had put him in, Jun Wu could almost pass for a father or a kindly older brother helping a child put on his shoes. The rims of his eyes burned. He felt like kicking out his legs, like pushing Jun Wu away, like being childish and petulant. The Heavenly Emperor had always indulged him so. Something in Xie Lian wanted to know if he’d indulge him now.
Can’t we just pretend, Xie Lian thought, stupidly, foolishly, fruitlessly, even while knowing that he could never stand for it; can’t we just be like we were before?
But Xie Lian couldn’t unsee the three wailing faces straining out of Jun Wu’s skin in the reflection of Hongjing, the vision of what lay under that laughing-crying mask seared irrevocably into his memory. It haunted him when he closed his eyes.
A part of him wished he didn’t know. A part of him wished he never saw.
“Xianle will do much better in here than out there,” Jun Wu said, straightening up. “You have some mistakes of your own to reflect on, don’t you?”
“Mistakes?” Xie Lian hissed, his despair and nostalgia mutating into raw anger as he thought of Yin Yu and Quan Yizhen broken and bloodied. He leapt up and backed away. The chair stood laughably between them, as good at stopping Jun Wu as an umbrella in a hurricane. “What mistakes? How are you going to stand in front of me and tell me I made mistakes, are you insane?”
Jun Wu’s brow furrowed with displeasure. “Xianle, I would advise you not to take that disrespectful tone with me. Don’t forget who you’re talking to. A little obedience goes a long way.”
Xie Lian’s fists clenched at his sides, the embers that burned low in his chest turning into a raging inferno of passionate rage. Jun Wu’s calm judgment made his skin crawl, frustration leaving him winded. “Fuck your respect!”
Jun Wu’s shoulders sagged with a little sigh. He tsk’d with disappointment. Xie Lian’s vision spun. The next moment he was looking up at Jun Wu from the floor, his knees giving way under him as the cursed shackle around his neck constricted and cut off his air. Xie Lian clawed at his throat, black spots blooming in his vision. He wheezed desperately, only able to make thin, reedy noises as the air refused to enter his body. Only when he was about to black out and his lungs felt ready to explode did the shackle abruptly loosen. He gasped for air, head swimming and pounding as he panted and choked.
“I don’t like to discipline you, but you don’t make things easy,” Jun Wu said as if nothing had happened. “I’ve tried to teach you. I’ve tried to be nice. Your biggest mistake is that you never learn your lesson.”
Xie Lian dry-heaved, still on all fours. All he could see with his head hung low was Jun Wu’s feet approaching, the chair disintegrating into pieces against the wall with a clatter as he cast it aside with ease. A firm hand wrenched Xie Lian up onto his knees and jerked his chin up until his neck ached, the iron in Jun Wu’s actions completely at odds with his cool demeanor and tender eyes.
“You’ve always looked best when you’re doing what you’re told,” Jun Wu hummed. Xie Lian loathed the little flare of pleasure that bloomed somewhere in the sick recesses of his gut at being praised. He glared up resentfully, tears clinging to his eyes and his throat raw from being choked, but stayed quiet.
"As soon as I know that you’ve learned your lesson this time you can leave,” Jun Wu said. “There’s only one way into this place and one way out. You can stay here indefinitely and think about how disrespectful you’ve been, or prove that you can submit to me and apologise.”
The hand on his jaw loosened a little, more of a ledge for Xie Lian’s chin to rest on than a vice holding him tight. Xie Lian could feel the tension that lingered under the skin, a spring trap waiting for him to try and get away so that Jun Wu could strike. He ground his back teeth, pouring all of his hatred into a bitter glare. The words scorched and scalded his tongue like acid, reluctant to let themselves be said — but Xie Lian couldn’t match Jun Wu’s strength with or without the cursed shackles, and he needed to get out of here for Hua Cheng’s sake.
Xie Lian had long suppressed any sense of pride or shame he’d once had. He’d accepted worse humiliation than this. There was no one else but him and Jun Wu in the room — did it really matter what he said?
“I’m sorry,” Xie Lian rasped. The words felt as painful as they sounded, serrating his hoarse, abused throat like tiny blades. He cleared his throat with a wince and, before Jun Wu could prompt him, repeated himself more clearly: “I’m sorry.”
Jun Wu smiled. “Easy to say, harder to prove.”
“I am,” Xie Lian lied. He sat up on his knees, surging into Jun Wu’s hold. “I’m sorry for speaking rudely. I… I’m sorry for not accepting your teaching. I’m sorry for not appreciating you. I won’t do it again.”
The hand on his chin ghosted across his cheekbone to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear, fingers brushing lightly against the vivid black sigils of his cursed shackle. Jun Wu sighed. Xie Lian’s heart clenched with fear — the fear of retribution, but also that old fear of disappointment, of being less than what Jun Wu expected of him.
“You lie so sweetly, Xianle, but that’s not the kind of apology that I want,” Jun Wu said.
What else can I do? What else can I do? Xie Lian spiralled with panic. He went rigid when Jun Wu’s thumb grazed the corner of his mouth, his other hand pulling back his heavy outer robes to reveal his belt and the slight bulge in his skirts. Kneeling on the floor, Xie Lian and Jun Wu’s crotch were face to face.
This time he did jerk away, and violently. “No,” he choked, recoiling in disgust. To Xie Lian’s surprise, the Heavenly Emperor let him go. He fell back on his rear in his scramble to get away, gaping at Jun Wu in abject horror.
“I thought you might say that,” Jun Wu shrugged, slipping off his outer garments and ornate shoulder pieces and letting them fall to the floor. “I would have been disappointed if you didn’t have more fight in you.”
Xie Lian leapt to his feet and swung, his animal instincts taking over in the face of blind panic. Jun Wu stepped out of reach easily and caught Xie Lian as he stumbled, twisting an arm behind his back and kicking his knees out from under him. Xie Lian cursed and struggled against his hold as the other man pinned him easily to the floor with one hand, kicking frantically in a wild tangle of limbs, desperately fighting to stop himself being taken. He trembled at the feeling of a knee anchoring him to the floor by the small of his back, Jun Wu’s hand keeping his wrists together. Long, dark hair brushed against his cheeks as the Emperor bent over him to murmur into his ear.
“I must not have been clear enough. If you do not submit to me now, you will never leave this room. You will rot in here for the rest of eternity. You will never see the sun again. The choice is yours, but I will only permit you to make it once.”
Xie Lian fell deathly still. He had never known Jun Wu to bluff, and he had never known Bai Wuxiang to tell the truth. The mix was potent and dangerous; Jun Wu’s words sounded like a promise without second chances, and Xie Lian was suddenly acutely aware of how vulnerable he was, immobilised under the Heavenly Emperor with no spiritual energy and no other way out.
“Don’t,” he whispered, pleading against the floor. Tears sprang to his eyes. “Please don’t make me.”
“Oh, Xianle,” Jun Wu crooned. “I’ve never made you do anything. Haven’t I always given you a choice? Weren’t you the one who asked me for the cursed shackles? You know what you have to do if you want this to stop. Either way is up to you, just like always.”
It isn’t fair, Xie Lian wanted to scream, pound his fists and cry. That isn’t fair. But little ever was, as he’d learned many times before; now as then, there was no third cup, no third option. Jun Wu’s words erased any doubt left in Xie Lian’s mind that if he refused him now the Heavenly Emperor would walk through that mirror and leave him here forever, gazing out alone into an empty room through a one-way surface.
With monumental effort Xie Lian let his muscles relax under Jun Wu’s hold. He heard the other man make a wordless sound of interest. The weight on his back shifted. The knee that had been pressing down the small of his back pushed between his legs instead.
“That’s better,” Jun Wu murmured, so quietly that it may have been to himself. Xie Lian squeezed his eyes shut, cheek pressed against the cold floor, and tried not to hyperventilate. Jun Wu kept Xie Lian’s wrists pinned and used his free hand to caress the line of the other god’s waist, appreciatively patting the swell of his ass. Xie Lian choked, skin crawling. The hand paused and then delved lower, two fingers sliding between the clothed seam of his legs. The path of Jun Wu’s touch seared through the cloth like an open flame and left a trail of revulsion in its wake. Xie Lian wanted to claw his skin all over until the feeling was gone.
Xie Lian inhaled deeply, his breath a wet, stuttering sniffle. Tears pooled against the floor and dampened his cheeks. Jun Wu’s hand paused again. Xie Lian bit his lip deeply, his heartbeat skyrocketing at the following silence. Every muscle in his body locked, corpse-like, when he felt Jun Wu lean over him again, one hand firmly gripping his wrists and the other between his legs.
He flinched when soft lips pressed to the exposed back of his neck, gently kissing along the sensitive skin. “Don’t worry, Xianle,” Jun Wu soothed, “I’ll make you feel good.”
The ornate frame of the mirror rattled. Jun Wu’s head jerked up slightly. A long moment of silence passed before lips fell on Xie Lian’s neck again, laden with promise.
I don’t want it to be good, Xie Lian thought, I want it to be over. Pain was tolerable; pleasure was worse. Even as he thought it, Xie Lian couldn’t deny the warm trickle between his slightly spread thighs when Jun Wu’s tongue flicked out to lave at the pale skin of his nape, tasting skin that had never been tasted before, never been kissed, never been touched by intimate hands. Jun Wu’s trespassing fingers sought out his most sensitive parts like an arrow to the mark, petting him through his underwear until his pussy throbbed.
Hot shame burned his cheeks and eyes when all of a sudden his wrists were released, his numb limbs screaming with relief after being held in such an uncomfortable position for so long. Jun Wu used both hands to hitch Xie Lian’s robes up around his waist and unceremoniously pull his trousers down, nudging his thighs open wider and pulling his ass up by his hips.
Xie Lian couldn’t suppress a choked sob when Jun Wu’s long, elegant fingers touched his bare flesh for the first time. He burrowed his face into his arms in disgust at the wet shlick as Jun Wu explored his folds. His stomach twisted itself in and out of knots like Ruoye, heaving dangerously until he feared he would vomit. Xie Lian had been humiliated a thousand different ways over the course of his long life, but never like this. The fact that Jun Wu’s talented fingers felt good as they stroked and petted his pussy, quickly searching out and pinching his plumping clit, made it worse, agonisingly worse.
“So wet for me, are you sure you didn’t really want this?” Jun Wu chuckled, his voice smooth and reassuring as ever, but laced this time with an edge that was quite unlike him. The Heavenly Emperor had never spoken — would never speak to him like this. Bubbling under the surface was a tone that Xie Lian recognised, buried under hundreds of years of placid make-believe and decorum, and it struck him through with such terror that he didn’t dare to move.
“What a little whore Xianle is, spreading his legs for me so willingly. Imagine if Crimson Rain could see you now,” Jun Wu said, rubbing the outer rim of Xie Lian’s hole with the tip of one finger before sliding in to the third knuckle. Xie Lian yelped and tried to struggle away, but immovable hands and strong thighs held him in place. Jun Wu snorted with displeasure. The finger was removed only to be roughly joined by another, scissoring Xie Lian’s pussy open with less care this time.
Xie Lian’s mind raced at the mention of Hua Cheng. Wasn’t Jun Wu right? He could only imagine how lewd he looked, how pathetic, ass in the air and hair unkempt with his face pressed into the floor. He’d noticed the looks of disgust that Hua Cheng threw at others sometimes and could almost see it now — San Lang walking in on the scene, the warmth in his gaze that he only ever directed at Xie Lian freezing over as his affection died, replaced with cold detachment and sneering revulsion when he saw who Xie Lian really was.
Agony gripped his heart like a vice and squeezed. Xie Lian didn’t think he could bear it. He’d rather die with no hope of reincarnation than have San Lang look at him and see nothing worth staying for.
“Who are you thinking about?” Jun Wu asked. The fingers in Xie Lian’s cunt stilled. Xie Lian swallowed heavily, dragged back to reality by the dangerous softness in that voice. With the barest pressure Jun Wu’s hand traversed the plump globe of Xie Lian’s ass before squeezing firmly.
“No one,” Xie Lian responded quickly. Too quickly. It was the wrong response, the worst response, and they both knew it. Jun Wu’s fingers dug into the muscle of Xie Lian’s rump until he winced in pain.
“Hmm? Not even Crimson Rain?” Jun Wu asked, his voice mocking. Xie Lian’s appreciation for danger had long since ceased to be acute, but he felt, profoundly, that he was in danger now. Something in the lilt of Jun Wu’s voice was less and less like the Heavenly Emperor Xie Lian knew by the minute, as though the creature that had worn that false face for so long was slowly shedding its skin. The increasingly unhinged undercurrent to every word that Jun Wu spoke tripped a primal fear that Xie Lian had held for eight hundred years.
Jun Wu didn’t give him time to respond. The pressure on Xie Lian’s ass alleviated. He bit his lip deeply when a third finger slipped inside him. Jun Wu alternated between languidly thrusting his fingers in and out of Xie Lian’s hole and caressing his folds, brushing the heel of his hand against Xie Lian’s clit here and there. Mortification and self-loathing feasted on Xie Lian’s insides every time his hips involuntarily jumped and sparks of pleasure shot through his core, curling in his gut until his entire body was warmed through.
Xie Lian gasped when Jun Wu’s fingers abruptly pulled out, hating how he ached for it, how bereft his pussy felt now that it was empty. He longed to close his legs but Jun Wu’s knee kept them firmly parted — and even if not, he knew better than to try. He gasped, hips canting against his will, when he felt something hot and hard brush against his entrance. Jun Wu positioned himself inside Xie Lian’s splayed legs and slid his cock along the weeping length of Xie Lian’s pussy.
Xie Lian felt his cunt gape and pulse, eager to be full and uncaring of who filled it. He bit down hard on his own arm and muffled his whimpers into his traitorous skin.
“When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember him. Every time you get fucked you’ll be thinking of me,” Jun Wu said. Xie Lian heard him spit on his cock and then Jun Wu was lining the fat head up with his hole.
He cried out when Jun Wu took a firm hold of his hips and slammed inside unceremoniously until he was buried to the hilt, wheezing as the breath was knocked out of him. Eight hundred years of careful self-denial and chaste cultivation, obliterated in a second. Even with the preparation it burned; his cunt clenched against the thick, intruding girth and he sobbed against his arm, tasting blood as he bit deeply to muffle his pained whimpers. Jun Wu murmured soft praise and stroked the swell of Xie Lian’s hips while he adjusted. Even as Xie Lian felt bruised and raw from taking Jun Wu in one go, pleasure bloomed within him, his hole impossibly, deliciously full. Jun Wu’s cock rubbed against a spot inside that made his thighs tremble and his clit jump.
The mirror’s frame rattled again, this time more noticeably. A muffled boom sounded from somewhere on the other side of the glass. Jun Wu clicked his tongue with irritation.
“Troublesome,” he spat. Xie Lian lifted his head wearily, but his vision went blurry and his eyes fluttered closed as Jun Wu snapped his hips and began driving in and out of him, fucking with abandon.
“Ah, ah, unh—” Xie Lian cried, drooling wetly around his arm and smearing his cheeks with a mixture of saliva and blood. The sloppy, wet sounds of his hole being ravaged and the brisk clap of Jun Wu’s balls and thighs slapping against him made his ears burn, tears of shame and pleasure mingling as they raced down his cheeks. Jun Wu groaned behind him, fucking into him so deeply that Xie Lian could almost feel it in the back of his throat. Every deep stroke dragged along his walls and knocked against his cervix, mixing flares of pleasure with bruising pain.
“Let me hear you, Xianle,” Jun Wu commanded. “You wouldn’t want me to think your apology insincere, would you?”
“That’s not — ah, ah — ohh, mmm,” Xie Lian cried. Jun Wu hissed at the feeling of Xie Lian’s hole fluttering around his cock, gripping him tightly and pulling him in.
“Such a slut with just a little taste of my cock. I should have known all that virginal innocence was just an act. You were gagging to be fucked, weren’t you, Xianle?” Jun Wu laughed, switching from hard, brisk thrusts to rolling his hips deep and slow.
Xie Lian choked in surprise when the view from through the mirror was suddenly obscured by smoke, an explosion drowning out Jun Wu’s filthy praise. The Heavenly Emperor stopped his leisurely fucking and Xie Lian resented the way his body clutched at him, quivering around his girth. The smoke cleared slowly and revealed a floor littered with rubble, one wall of the room completely obliterated.
And Hua Cheng, standing before the mirror with E-Ming drawn, his face like rolling thunder.
“N-no,” Xie Lian choked with horror. “No.”
Hua Cheng stared into the mirror with a small frown and empty eyes and Xie Lian started to tremble all over, his chest tightening and his breath quickening with oncoming panic. It was only when Hua Cheng paced to one end of the room before the mirror and then to the other, leaning in close and reaching out to hesitantly tap the glass, that Xie Lian realised the reflection was only one way.
He can’t see anything. Relief flooded him like a breaking dam. He can’t see me.
That flood snarled up in muddy waters as Xie Lian’s outburst broke Jun Wu from his reverie. He chuckled, rich and deep and dangerous, as Hua Cheng paced back and forth like a captive tiger.
“You keep such terrible company,” Jun Wu commented. “I think it’s about time that little Crimson Rain sees what you really are.”
“No. No, you can’t,” Xie Lian begged, his head pounding and stuffy from crying. “Anything, anything but that.”
“Apologies don’t come easy for transgressions like yours,” Jun Wu said. Fatalistic certainty settled in Xie Lian’s heart. He kicked out violently, lashing with arms and legs and throwing all the little power that he had behind every kick and punch. Xie Lian fought with the desperation of a man with only one thing to lose, dislodging Jun Wu and kneeing him roughly in the gut, clawing for his mouth, his eyes. Jun Wu grunted and pinned him under his weight. Xie Lian thrashed like a cornered animal, kicking out with one leg once Jun Wu had forced open the other, tearing out the Emperor’s hairpiece in an effort to pull him off.
Jun Wu raised a hand and Xie Lian braced for a backhanded strike, but it never came. Only when he heard frantic banging on the glass did he realise that Jun Wu had created a two-way mirror.
“San La—” Xie Lian cried in alarm. Jun Wu used the opportunity to wrangle him onto his belly again, spreading his legs wide and forcing himself inside with a snarl. Xie Lian screamed. He looked up in time to see Hua Cheng’s expression morph from confusion to violent horror, his face running through many shades before finally paling even more ghostly white than usual.
“Gege!” Hua Cheng yelled from across the mirror. All Xie Lian could do was hold on as he was mercilessly fucked from behind, every savage thrust bouncing him backwards and forwards. A punch from Hua Cheng’s bare fist made the glass shake, but not crack. A wave of silver wraith butterflies rushed towards Jun Wu and Xie Lian. They dissipated ineffectually into a shower of silver dust when they hit the mirror’s surface.
Jun Wu cackled, the manic laughter of a creature Xie Lian had thought dead for hundreds of years, and the sound froze Xie Lian from the inside out. The Heavenly Emperor grabbed him roughly by the hair, pulling until he yelped with pain.
“I like it when you struggle,” he admitted, bending over to suck on Xie Lian’s neck. His body weight held Xie Lian down as he drove into his cunt again and again; then he repeated those words he’d said to him using another face in the Kiln: “Makes one ache, makes one excited.”
Xie Lian kept his face to the floor, his heart tearing itself apart inside his chest. He dared not look up at Hua Cheng as he was fucked raw like a ragdoll, unable to do anything but lie there and take it, his hands reaching desperately for Hua Cheng beyond the glass. He moaned and jolted when Jun Wu reached down to dip his fingers into Xie Lian’s wetness and rub his stiff clit, pleasure sparking behind his eyes like fireworks.
“Don’t, don’t… not there—” Xie Lian slurred, begged. Jun Wu pinched his clit and pulled them flush together, holding him tight.
“This was meant to be my gift to you, Xianle. I was saving this for when you fully realised your potential. But you kept failing every task I set you, kept failing to learn what I was trying to teach you. And then you spoiled it by running off with Crimson Rain. You,” he hissed into Xie Lian’s ear, punctuating each word with a savage thrust, “are ungrateful.”
Ungrateful. Used. Tainted. Spoiled.
“Look at him. See what he really thinks of you, how disgusting you are, how wanton and eager for another man,” Jun Wu taunted when he noticed that Xie Lian was determined to hide his face. He used his grip on Xie Lian’s hair to pull his head up.
Xie Lian opened his eyes, suffocating on despair, but when he looked at Hua Cheng what he saw wasn’t hatred or disgust. It was the look of a man frantic with desperation and out of his mind with panic. Hua Cheng threw everything he had against the mirror’s surface again and again, torrents of wraith butterflies exhausting themselves uselessly. E-Ming glanced off the glass in bursts of silver light, the blade vibrating and its red eye rolling uncontrollably in its silver socket.
San Lang, Xie Lian mouthed with numb lips. San Lang, I’m sorry.
“Dianxia,” Hua Cheng screamed, screamed like his heart was being torn out. The sound filtered, muddy and muted, through the glass. Xie Lian closed his eyes, bathing in hot tears.
“Mmn, ah, ah, ah,” Xie Lian cried, repeatedly mouthing San Lang’s name, afraid to say it aloud in front of Jun Wu. He curled in on himself pathetically as Jun Wu’s fingers and relentless thrusts drove him to orgasm, his cunt slamming down on the cock breaching him and pulling it in even as he sobbed and cried in anguish. Hua Cheng resorted to throwing himself bodily against the mirror, running into it again and again with his shoulder, his eye red-rimmed and brimming with tears.
Jun Wu roared and buried himself in Xie Lian one final time, his cock jerking inside him as he filled his pussy with thick ropes of cum. Xie Lian whimpered helplessly as he gushed around him, slick juice soaking his thighs. His mouth fell open at the feeling of hot cum seeping into him, Jun Wu filling him as deep as he could go. His knees shook as he rocked back and forth with his orgasm, blinding pleasure radiating from his clit and cunt. A flood of warm fluid dribbled from his hole and onto the floor when Jun Wu pulled out with a wet pop.
“Let’s show Crimson Rain some mercy, shall we?” Jun Wu murmured. Xie Lian could hear the smile in his voice.
A hand patted his ass. Jun Wu rose and dressed himself unhurriedly. With a wave of his hand Hua Cheng and the antechamber disappeared, the surface of the mirror re-forming once more until it looked out over the Great Martial Hall. Jun Wu threw one last look at Xie Lian, still lying prone on the floor in a pool of tears, blood, spit, and cum, before walking through and leaving him in that small, windowless room.