Possessive Madman Coaxes Him With a Hand on His Waist! The Cold-Hearted Host Starts to Feel Something - Chapter 98

Li Cheng noticed the dark look on Zhu Ci’s face and wisely decided not to say anything.
Instead, he nestled obediently into the man’s arms. Acting sweet and harmless—that was his specialty.

But he hadn’t expected that the moment they got home, he’d be thrown straight onto the couch.

Staring up at Zhu Ci, who stood at the edge of the sofa looking down at him, Li Cheng immediately shifted tactics. He ran a hand through his hair and gave a deliberately sultry look, tugging at his clothes until a strip of pale, smooth waist peeked out.

The corner of Zhu Ci’s lips twitched upward, laughter glinting faintly in his eyes. The teasing glimmer in Li Cheng’s movements pulled a reluctant smirk from him.

He simply stood there and watched.

Li Cheng, being a man of action, lifted one bare foot and pressed it against Zhu Ci’s thigh, voice light and coaxing.

“What’s your idea of an apology, hmm?”

Zhu Ci’s gaze lowered to the delicate foot resting against him, pale and faintly pink at the joints, then slowly trailed upward to that breathtakingly striking face, an expression of barely contained amusement playing on his lips.

Li Cheng huffed softly through his nose. “Come here, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

The words came out low and heated, melting against the air. Zhu Ci caught Li Cheng’s wrist and pinned it above his head, voice equally low.

“Then you’d better kiss me until I’m satisfied.”

Li Cheng took the order seriously. With all the sincerity of a man trying to make amends, he leaned in and kissed him.

“Mwah—…”

Just as Li Cheng was about to pull away, Zhu Ci’s hand curled around the back of his neck.

“Not enough.”

“Ah—” Before Li Cheng could finish his startled protest, the next kiss landed.

“Mm—…”

…

By the time it was over, Li Cheng was utterly spent, dozing off atop Zhu Ci’s chest.

But his sleep was anything but peaceful.

He dreamed of being struck by lightning again—on Jiuqing Mountain, divine punishment tearing him apart. His body was split in pieces, blood streaming down his thigh.

He woke with a start, terrified.

His hand flew down to his leg—thank heavens, there was no blood.

Then he turned, only to find Zhu Ci already awake, staring at him intently.

Li Cheng blinked at him, then instinctively scooted forward and burrowed into his arms, muttering in a half-dreamy, half-slurred voice, “Zhu Ci…”

Zhu Ci smelled faintly sweet—barely noticeable unless you were close. It was the same scent as Yan Jin’s, and strangely enough, the same faint plum fragrance he’d once caught on the Supreme God of Wanxu himself.
(t/n: the plum scent is symbolic of purity and restraint in Chinese literature, often used for characters of divine or untouchable nature.)

Zhu Ci’s arms came around him, holding him close.

“Sleep well?” Zhu Ci’s voice was husky, the kind of rough warmth that said he’d been awake for a while.

Li Cheng grumbled, “No. Your fault.”

Zhu Ci chuckled softly, fingers brushing behind Li Cheng’s ear. His tone was light, indulgent. “Mm. My fault.”

After a pause, Zhu Ci added, “You were talking in your sleep last night, Little Fox.”

“Huh?” Li Cheng’s half-lidded eyes blinked open. “What did I say?”

Zhu Ci’s lips quirked faintly. “You kept calling for ‘Little Black Dragon.’”

Li Cheng froze, scrambling through his memory. He swore he hadn’t dreamed of the Supreme God last night! And even if he had, there was no way he’d dare call that man Little Black Dragon!

Zhu Ci’s brows drew together. His fingertips traced light, thoughtful patterns along Li Cheng’s body.

“Who’s Little Black Dragon?” he asked again.

The moment the Supreme God was mentioned, Li Cheng’s eyes lit up. “You want to know?”

Zhu Ci nodded without hesitation. “Of course. I want to know everything about my Little Fox.”

Li Cheng lifted his head from Zhu Ci’s neck, as if preparing for a solemn confession. “Little Black Dragon is…”

He paused, thinking carefully about his phrasing. “…a bastard.”

Zhu Ci’s expression darkened slightly, his voice deceptively calm. “He hurt you?”

“Mm.” Li Cheng nodded seriously. “Once I get stronger, I’ll give him the beating he deserves.”

Zhu Ci’s hand slid up to cradle Li Cheng’s face, the emotion in his eyes flickering—part jealousy, part something darker.

“So,” he murmured, “my Little Fox really hates him?”