Possessive Madman Coaxes Him With a Hand on His Waist! The Cold-Hearted Host Starts to Feel Something - Chapter 103

Bai Si’s laughter rang out again, sharp and sinister—so cold it made one’s skin crawl.

“Your name will be written into the textbooks of the Realm of Illusions.”

As his words fell, Bai Si loaded the demon-binding rope into a mechanical launcher and fired it straight toward Li Cheng, pressing down on the trigger of the capture blade.

The golden rope shot through the air, slashing toward the weakened Li Cheng, who stood barely able to stay upright.

At that moment, even running was impossible. For some reason, his mind flashed to Yuan Zheng.

The anger in his chest melted into something smaller, softer—something almost like hurt.

Yuan Zheng, you liar. If you don’t come soon…

I won’t forgive you.

Li Cheng’s legs felt impossibly heavy, like lead weights chained to him. He couldn’t even lift them—his strength draining until it felt like he’d collapse any second.

Maybe it was because he was thinking of Yuan Zheng that he thought he was hallucinating.

Because he saw him—really saw him—arrive.

The moment before the rope struck, something tightened around his waist.

A familiar scent filled his senses.

It wasn’t an illusion.

Li Cheng turned slightly and saw the figure holding him close—Zhou Ci.

No—Yuan Zheng. He had withdrawn that fragment of his soul.

The instant Li Cheng saw him, his panic scattered like mist in sunlight.

Yuan Zheng, still wearing Zhou Ci’s appearance, carried fury in every line of his face. His sharp brows and eyes blazed with killing intent, layer upon layer of restrained violence.

He wrapped an arm protectively around Li Cheng’s waist, standing half a step in front of him.

One hand was raised slightly, gripping the divine rope that had been shot toward them.

The rope of celestial restraint was trapped in Zhou Ci’s grasp, its sacred aura draining away until it dulled, looking no different from an ordinary hemp cord.

“Courting death.” Yuan Zheng’s voice was low and vicious, his eyes cutting toward the rope’s other end.

His fingers twitched. The rope suddenly whipped backward—curling around Bai Si’s neck and looping over the open door of the hovering helicopter!

Bai Si let out a strangled cry as the rope cinched tight, choking him.

“Zhou Ci, you traitor! You’re helping a demon? The Supreme Council will lock you up for this!”

He clawed at the rope around his neck, shouting hoarsely, “Are you insane? Do you want to go to prison?”

Yuan Zheng’s only response was to yank the rope violently downward.

The helicopter lurched, plummeting toward the ground. Bai Si screamed in disbelief, unable to accept that Zhou Ci had such terrifying power.

“Aaaahhh!!!”

A deafening explosion split the air—

Boom!

The helicopter hit the ground and erupted into flames on impact.

Yuan Zheng dragged Bai Si out with the same rope, his movements cold and merciless.

Bai Si’s lower body was aflame, his legs a mangled mess of blood and burned flesh as he rolled across the ground, shrieking.

“Aaaahhh! Zhou Ci—help me… please…”

The white cat demon Bai Si had brought along had long since fled. Now he was begging the man who’d destroyed him.

“Please! Help me!”

Yuan Zheng hauled him closer, stopping before a shallow pond among the wreckage.

Another explosion followed—

Boom!

The wrecked helicopter shattered further, scattering into molten debris and twisted metal.

Yuan Zheng looked down at the writhing, screaming Bai Si, eyes glacial.

“Save you?”

His tone dripped with contempt. “When you schemed against my wife, did you ever consider whether I’d spare you?”

He dragged Bai Si another few feet closer to the water’s edge. Bai Si clawed toward it desperately, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t reach.

His limbs felt like lead, his strength gone. The heat from the burning wreckage scalded his back again and again, waves of agony coursing through him.

The pond was right there—but unreachable.

Despair hollowed Bai Si’s eyes.

Now he understood why Zhou Ci—no, Yuan Zheng—had pulled him out of the helicopter.

Compared to this pain, dying in the explosion would have been mercy.

“Kill me! Just kill me, Yuan Zheng!” he screamed, voice breaking.

Yuan Zheng let go of the rope. “Kill you? That would dirty my hands.”

“This kind of death suits you better.”

Bai Si’s strength ebbed away. One of his legs had already been blasted off in the first explosion, and the burns covering his body left him beyond saving. Even surviving half an hour would take a miracle.

Before his final breath, Yuan Zheng reached out and pulled a wisp of divine essence from between Bai Si’s brows—then crushed it into dust between his fingers.

For a brief moment, Yuan Zheng was grateful he’d come to the Realm of Illusions in time.

This was not an opponent the little fox could have fought alone.

He lowered his gaze to the figure in his arms.

Li Cheng’s body was cold—unnaturally so.

In Zhou Ci’s form, Yuan Zheng transferred a thread of divine energy into him, dissolving the drug’s effects. “It’s over.”

His chest ached as he looked down at Li Cheng, voice softening. “I came too late.”

Li Cheng didn’t answer. He just leaned unconsciously closer. The drug was designed to paralyze and weaken demons—and even without his tail, it clearly affected this little fox.

Yuan Zheng’s arm tightened around his waist. “I’m sorry.”

“Earlier…” He trailed off. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had been late. Rage burned quietly in his chest.

“Let’s go home, okay?”

Li Cheng looked up at him, voice faint. “Cold…”

Yuan Zheng stroked his shoulder gently, pulling him closer, his tone soft as mist. “I’ll hold you.”

“Were you scared just now?”

Li Cheng turned his head away. “No.”

Yuan Zheng nodded, pressing his lips together.

He carried Li Cheng over to where Bai Si lay twitching, his expression turning hard again. “Little fox, how do you want to vent your anger?”

Bai Si was already half-dead—barely breathing, eyes wide with terror.

Li Cheng looked down at him. He thought of all the demons who’d died because of Bai Si’s greed and cruelty.

This will do.

This death fit him perfectly.

“I want to sleep…” Li Cheng murmured.

He could feel the drug slowly wearing off, but he didn’t want to move. He stayed nestled against Yuan Zheng’s chest.

Yuan Zheng lifted him carefully into his arms.

Not far away, Fan Ming turned his head aside, swallowing hard. He suddenly realized that surviving this long despite opposing Zhou Ci had been sheer luck.

“Don’t look at me! I didn’t touch him!” Fan Ming stammered nervously.

He remembered Zhou Ci’s intimidating aura—but it hadn’t been this suffocating before.

“I really didn’t hurt him! I—I came to capture the fox demon!”

Yuan Zheng glanced down at Li Cheng, as if leaving the man’s fate to him.

Li Cheng stirred faintly in Yuan Zheng’s arms, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“He couldn’t beat me anyway.”

That seemed to settle it.

Yuan Zheng looked at the little fox in his embrace. His face was still drawn and unhappy, cheeks flushed from the drug, like a pale rose petal glowing faintly under moonlight—delicate and heartbreakingly beautiful.

Yuan Zheng’s lips curved, voice husky. “Let’s go home, all right?”

Home?

Which home?

“To Jiujing Mountain,” Li Cheng murmured without thinking.

“You want to go see it?” Yuan Zheng’s tone softened even more, his gaze full of warmth. When he said home, that was what he meant too—Jiujing Mountain, the place the little fox hadn’t returned to in so long.

“Mm.” Li Cheng’s voice was low and distant, lost in thought.

He clutched Yuan Zheng’s clothes, shivering slightly.

Yuan Zheng leaned close to his ear, voice low. “If you’re still cold… I can warm you another way.”