Possessive Madman Coaxes Him With a Hand on His Waist! The Cold-Hearted Host Starts to Feel Something - Chapter 42

“You’ve made it clear you can’t stand me.” Yan Xun’s voice was low, eyes dark as an abyss. “So if I were to take you now, would it disgust you?”

Li Cheng trembled. Yan Xun’s gaze frightened him—it was cold, sharp, and dangerous.

He tried to lift his hand, but it felt heavy, weak. Forget summoning divine power—he couldn’t even speak.

The red veins at the corners of his eyes deepened, and the air in the room grew thick with tension.

Yan Xun’s voice broke the silence, filled with unmistakable fury.

“You provoked me again and again—for Yan Jin.”

“Do you really like him that much?”

He pressed down on Li Cheng’s shoulders, practically pinning him to the bed.

“Now look at this situation… if Yan Jin were to see you like this, I wonder how much it would hurt him.”

Yan Xun leaned close to Li Cheng’s ear, his breath hot and edged with cruelty.

“Consider this your first punishment.”

With that, he yanked open Li Cheng’s shirt. The fox’s pale skin gleamed faintly under the dim light, tinted with unnatural redness.

Li Cheng’s lashes trembled. The next second, Yan Xun’s lips crashed against his.

“Mmph…”

Yan Xun reached out and switched off the lamp. Darkness engulfed the room in an instant.

Li Cheng felt as if the shadow before him had become a wild beast—feral, violent, and utterly devoid of warmth.

“Yan Xun…” His head throbbed painfully. He felt like he was about to faint. His body shook uncontrollably, his breathing uneven and shallow.

[Fox Host, your spiritual power is weakening. Yan Xun seems to have lost control. Should I take you to the next world?]
[That fever medicine had a sedative effect—you might start feeling drowsy soon.]
(t/n: “Fox Host” refers to Li Cheng’s divine identity as a fox deity assigned to missions across worlds.)

Li Cheng’s fingers clutched the bedsheet tightly. He tried to summon divine energy again—but even the faintest trace of mist refused to appear.

His chest heaved.
No, he thought. Yan Xun is Yan Jin. I’m not leaving this world.

He forced his eyes open and looked at Yan Xun. His gaze was hazy and damp with heat, his voice fragile, nearly swallowed by the dark.

“Yan Xun… I feel terrible…”

Yan Xun’s eyes narrowed. The rational part of him screamed that this man had lied to him from the start. But seeing Li Cheng’s pitiful, fevered expression—something inside him twisted painfully.

Ridiculous.

“I didn’t lie to you…” Li Cheng’s forehead was beaded with sweat. The fever had left his skin flushed, yet his lips were pale and bloodless.

“I just… want to sleep…” His voice was weak, sluggish.

Yan Xun studied him carefully, brows furrowed.

[Fox Host, are you sure you won’t leave?]

Li Cheng’s reply came faintly through divine consciousness:
No.

Then he looked back at Yan Xun, lifted his trembling arms, and wrapped them around the man’s neck.

The sudden gesture unsettled Yan Xun. He hated that he felt something at all.

He wasn’t Yan Jin.

With a harsh breath, he shoved Li Cheng away.

The fox turned slightly, curling into himself, clutching the pillow tight. His small frame looked heartbreakingly fragile.

With his back to Yan Xun, he murmured drowsily, repeating the same words in a slurred whisper.

“Yan Xun… I feel terrible…”

His breathing grew slower, softer—then stilled into sleep.

Yan Xun stared at him for a long moment, then reached out to touch his forehead again.

Still burning hot—like fire.

He didn’t wake him this time.

He simply sat there, watching in silence, thoughts hidden deep beneath lowered lashes.

“You got close to me… just to make me obey.”

“You seduced me—for Yan Jin.”

“Then what the hell am I to you?”

The question fell into the quiet room, unanswered—
and hung there like smoke that would never clear.