Hua Hua You Long - Volume SS - Chapter 9

Turtle's hhyl ficlet #9

Warning: adult content 

Vicious and painful, like a beast tearing him apart as he lay like a broken marionette on the wedding bed, convulsing painfully with each violent motion. Thick red liquid sluiced down his pale thighs and bloomed in hauntingly beautiful flowers on the white silk cloth, horribly ironic evidence of his purity.

Stop...stop...

His mind was suffering a cataclysmic meltdown -- the stimulation was excruciating -- agony, shame, disgust, and confusion simultaneously squeezed through every painful nerve in his strengthless body. He had lost the battle before it even began and now, when his voice had been squandered to the point of barely managing a screech and tears had covered his face, he welcomed the numbness that crept into his consciousness, poignant yet comforting.
....

His vision was saturated with the strange man's ethereal beauty. The sight engulfed his senses in a terrifying whirlwind of incertitude -- his heart throbbed intemperately against his ribcage, from fright or from something else, he wasn't sure. 

The man carelessly flipped his body about and clicked his tongue in irritation after awhile. He fumbled through his white clothing and withdrew a small golden seal -- the carving was intricate but Lu Cang only felt gripping fear when the pretty shiny object was held above a flickering candle flame.

"You...what are you doing?"

Pushing out that little bit of sound made his whole body tremble. 

The man moved in a blur and the feeling of his hands on his skin made Lu Cang flinch harshly although he lacked the strength to move away. His stomach twisted horribly.

"No...no! Don't!!"

 His thighs were torn apart and he felt the blood on his skin cake from the heat a split second before the seal made contact. The searing pain quickly coalesced with his senses and gripped his consciousness in an unbreakable vice -- 

Lu Cang woke up gagging -- air scraped past his throat in an ugly, panicked sound. Heart beating wildly and figure trembling, he buried his head in his hands in a bid to calm himself. There was a layer of sweat on his skin and vague watermarks had formed on the pillow where his tears had rolled down the side of his face and onto the cloth. Such occurrences had frequented him for the past few days.

Whenever he fell asleep, that man would creep into his dreams and violate him all over again, to the point where he'd lay in bed for hours, absolutely terrified of letting sleep take over. But he'd drift off unwillingly and find that man in his room, standing over him with cold eyes.

 He felt his abdomen contract violently and quickly doubled over off the edge of the bed to throw up. He hadn't eaten properly in days -- ever since that horrific night, his body had been struggling to adapt to the drug, rejecting any food until he found his empty stomach wringing in fits of agony, forcing out air and bile.

 His Qi flow was in a mess and he could feel it. This kind of trauma was completely different compared to normal physical injury -- he was a bandit after all, his life was one of violence, but what was done to him shook his entire person. After he had been raped, the Qi balance in his body was badly disrupted and he wouldn't be able to fight properly until it was fixed.  In addition to the wretched state of his body, his mind could not come to terms with the events of that night -- he had locked himself up in his quarters and refused to see any of his brothers -- even his most high collared tunic couldn't hide all the marks that dotted his body, the injuries to the area between his legs rendered him scarcely able to walk, let alone stride with his usual confidence of a bandit gang leader.

Painful convulsions wracked his body, but his stomach forced up nothing but a trickle of bitter liquid. His eyes were glazed over with a thick layer of unshed tears and he could feel a wetness between his thighs -- that place was still bleeding profusely and he knew there'd be traces of blood on his thin night pants.

The manor was quiet and the forest chirped softly in the darkness-- all the brothers had gone to sleep hours ago. Slowly, he pulled his hurting body off the bed, draped a long robe on his shoulders and dragged himself out of the room. The burnt skin of his inner thigh stung with every movement as it brushed against the fabric of his pants. 

 Lu Cang snuck through the bandit stronghold in the dead of the night, completely silent despite his irregular footfalls. The limp in his walk was obvious, and he had to brace his hand against the tree trunks for support as he made his way to the isolated stream in the forest. Only the weak moonlight bore witness as his clothes slipped off to reveal a multitude of dark marks on his smooth skin -- proof of the things his body had been used for.

The frigid water was anything but soothing. In addition to the constant ache, the cold pierced through every patch of skin and sank deep into his bones. It was numbing but still unpleasant. Lu Cang looked down at himself through the lucid water. Blood on his thighs had mingled with the cold water and finally left his skin. The bruises had scarcely gotten better, especially around his wrists and the hip area. Disturbed by the sight of his own body, Lu Cang shuddered violently and ran a piece of cloth over his torso. 

It did nothing to clean the filth that clung to him since he was touched by that man.

Dirty... So dirty...

He scrubbed his skin viciously, almost maniacally, as if by doing do the dark bruises would disappear. Even the feeling of his own hands sickened him -- horrific images flashed through his head and he was once again ablaze with phantom pains that spread through his whole being.

"Wuu..."

The scrubbing immediately ceased and Lu Cang held his arm across his chest, gripping himself himself in a tight, protective half embrace. Without realizing it, he began to tremble violently -- two steady lines of tears streamed unabatedly down his cheeks and fell in quiet drips into the water. His heart twisted painfully in his chest, it hindered his breathing and he found himself sobbing and gasping uncontrollably -- he had let himself do such disgraceful things. He should have fought harder. He should have turned his brothers down, like he usually did. He should have realized earlier...he should have...if only...if only--

But now, that mark on his inner thigh would remind him of that night's events for the rest of his life. He could let no one else know this secret at all costs.

He squeezed his eyes shut as sorrow and fury seized the core of his heart. 

He'd kill that man for stripping him of all his dignity. For turning the happiest day of his life into the most horror filled night in his existence. For marking him and silencing him and poisoning him and violating him.

He will kill that man.

.......

The arch of the bridge merged with its quivering reflection over the dimly lit waters and formed a perfect circle, reminiscent of the full moon that glowed jealously in the dark sky. 

An elegant figure stood with hands clasped behind his back in a city a long distance from the mountain bandit stronghold. Jing's expression was exceedingly tranquil, as if he was greatly sated and just a little bit mischievous. 

This jaunt to Jiangnan had been unexpectantly pleasant. He hadn't gone up the mountain with the intention of doing those things to that bandit leader -- but that arrogant bandit gave him the irresistible urge to claim him. 

He had quite a reputation. His body was strong and his eyes bright, but his insides were untouched and his skin was sensitive, unlike all the imperial courtesans who had long devoted their life to mastering the art of pleasure. Even compared to the other Jianghu men he had bedded, no one had ever given him such satisfaction, willingly or not. 

But this bandit king was raw and untainted -- his body was built for combat, not the whims of hedonism -- the way he moved and struggled, Jing knew his flesh was previously unchartered. Strong, fierce, and proud, but pure like snow in late autumn just before it got trampled into a dirty mess. The thought of conquering such a prize brought a smile to Jing's face.

Feeling the bandit's taut skin tremble underneath him and hearing the screams and whimpers that burst forth from those lips thrilled him like nothing else. No one else was allowed to see or touch or take any pleasure from that bandit from now on. Jing had only seen him once, but already his heart was filled with jealousy and greed.

Make him scream. Make him mine.

...
The full moon waned and rose again.

Jing watched eagerly when a lone figure ascended the Yue Long bridge. He had anticipated this day since his return from Jiangnan and to be honest, he half expected the bandit to ignore his instructions and suffer on his own back in Hangzhou. Exchange his intimacy to temporarily attenuate the effect of the drug, let other men take pleasure from him until he killed himself from shame. It left a bitter taste in Jing's mouth.

If that bandit hadn't shown up, Jing would have traveled all the way to Jiangnan again to take him. So when the tall, handsome man stood on the bridge with his hands behind his back, Jing unconsciously relaxed a little and studied the figure from afar. 

The water that ran under the bridge quivered in the wind, leaves are falling through the cold night. A vague smile on his face, Jing quietly approached the bridge.

He hadn't noticed it yet, but his treasonous uncle never once entered his mind since that fateful night in the mountain

-End-