MW CH51

Chapter 51: I Want What No One Else Has

Warm, fragrant air, dim, teasing light, and the person I love—perfect setup for something to happen. But as I slid my tongue into Mochuan’s lips, lost in the heat, he snapped awake like a spell broke. Pulled back, hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

“Not here.”

He glanced up at the deer-headed golden statue looming over the hall. I followed his gaze, squinted—couldn’t care less about this Cenglu mountain god.

“Woodshed then?” I grabbed his hand, testing.

He mulled it over, shook his head. “Li Yang and Qia Gu are back—too close to their rooms. They’d hear.”

Now what? I hauled ass over mountains and rivers to get here—can’t kiss, can’t touch? Another month of abstinence?

I’ve got spicier plans in mind.

“Fine, gifts first.” Let go, dug out an A4-sized calendar from my pack—ease him up, then push my agenda.

“Calendar?” He took it, spotted the first square—August 1st, marked with a green cypress tree. Got it instantly. “Day you came back?”

Pointed at it. “Yeah. From now on, before I leave, I’ll mark my return date here—like this, with a cypress.”

Grabbed a roll of silver super-strong tape from my pack, hooked the calendar’s string, stood, flipped on my phone’s flashlight, headed for his room.

“Thought it over—wardrobe’s safest.” His room’s off-limits to most, but better safe.

Felt like sneaking around with a celebrity crush—kinda funny.

Opened the wardrobe, handed him my phone naturally. “Light me up.”

He leaned on the door, facing me, out of nowhere: “How’d you get back this time?”

Quiet since earlier—thought he was brewing something. This?

“Train, then flight.” Tore off a tape strip, fixed the calendar to the door, tugged it—solid, super-strong stuff.

“How long’d it take?” Another question.

“Don’t worry—I’m here.” Took his hand, led him out. “Promised when I’d be back, and I made it.”

No quick reply. Back in the hall, we sat on cushions—he spoke, deliberate. “If something really holds you up… a few days late’s fine.”

So you’d wait up every night till the last second?

“You don’t even want me to go—why act like you don’t care?” Poked his chest, half-joking. “Drop the Pinjia mask—let Mochuan out.”

He glanced at my finger—either showing his real self or playing along, voice cooled. “Just being polite.”

Laughed, pulled back. “That’s more like it.”

Dug in my pack again—thick file folder this time.

Opened it, spread the contents before him. “My household registry, property deed, bank card—password’s my birthday…” Dumped a handful of keys, pressed one into his palm. “Key to the bank vault with Grandma’s jewelry.”

Old lady loved jade—Grandpa once sourced Burmese rough, cut into glass-grade emerald pieces. Made a set—necklace, bracelet, earrings, ring. One ring’s seven figures now; whole set’s tens of millions.

That’s just one.

“Here’s your salary card back.” Waved the green card he’d given me. “Said I’d repay with interest—here’s the principal, plus extra.”

He gave me everything—I can’t hold back either.

His role means we’ll never go public—fine. Chose him, no hesitation.

Cuoyansong’s a thousand miles from Haicheng—mountains, rivers, typhoons in the way. Tough as hell, I still made it.

Like us—sounds hard imagining it, but doing it? Not so bad.

Mochuan flipped through my registry, deed—frowned up at me. “Didn’t you say you lost everything?”

Busted.

Looked away, guilty. “My stuff’s gone—sold it all to scrape by. This is Grandma’s legacy—my ‘wife fund,’ technically not mine. Uh, one last thing—let’s finish that…”

Sly topic switch—pulled out the final, heaviest gift: two black 0.01 boxes.

Mochuan, clueless, picked one up. “Cigarettes…?”

“-tes” faded fast—his night vision caught the fine print.

Grabbed a box, peeled it, held up a packet. “Know what this is? They teach you how to use it in health class?”

Set his down. “I know what it is—no lessons on it.”

Perfect.

Tried not to grin too hard. “Then today, Professor Bai’s giving you a demo.”

Ripped it open, pulled out the clear sleeve, showed him on my hand. “Like this—pinch the tip, squeeze out air, roll it down slow, all the way…” Two fingers up. “Easy, right?”

He eyed the condom, then me, lost. “Why learn this?”

His innocence—big bad wolf guilt hit me.

Peeled it off, tossed it back. “You know what it is—know what it’s for?”

“Prevents unexpected pregnancy.” Textbook answer.

Stifled a laugh. “True. But guys can use it with guys too…”

Snow-mountain saint bird versus Haicheng playboy—I’ve got the edge here. Leaned in, whispered gay 101 in his ear.

In his world, mutual hand stuff was the limit— hearing it could go further threw him.

He picked up a foil square, soft. “You’ve used it?”

“Yeah.” Curiosity first, then for clean convenience—works great.

His nail scratched the packet, faint mark. “You said, between guys, usually one’s top, one’s bottom. You and your exes…”

“Me? Top, obviously.” Since figuring myself out, never pictured otherwise. Dollface and Ming Zhuo? Bottom vibes—doubt they’d ever flip me.

“So you want me bottom?”

Face warmed—thankfully dim light hid it. “If you’re not against it.”

“Nope.” Flat no.

Stunned, frowned—blurted, “Then what do you want?”

Eyes locked on me. “I want what no one else has.”

No one else?

Studied his face—click. He’s been off since earlier—he thinks I’ve gone all the way with others, some seasoned pro!

Not my plan, but… his jealousy could work. Force his hand?

Tch—am I hopeless? Now thinking, “Good thing I can give him what he wants.”

Deep breath—stood, unbuttoned, dropped my pants, kicked them off.

His dark eyes stayed steady—didn’t stop me.

Summer’s about comfort—loose white tee, just covering the goods, half-teasing reveal.

Sat back, lifted the hem. “Remember these calf-nose pants?” Pulled his hand, licked each finger slow, other hand tugging the front flap aside, muffled. “Thought back then—pretty handy…”

His breathing hitched—struggle in his face, fingers twitching.

“Acharya, take what you want yourself.” Sucked his fingers in.

Lips tight—like he hated my baiting but couldn’t fight it. Eyes shut, fingers clamped my tongue, firm. “They’ve seen you like this too?”

Mouth open, spit slid—no answer, couldn’t.

“They have.” Pulled out, crashed over me—lips and tongue stormed my mouth.

Arms around him, matched his fire, hips bucking against him.

Fast learner—verbal crash course, and he’s got it. Knows the moves.

Like him teaching me archery—now he’s running my lessons back on me.

Blur of memory—dinner with Zhao Chenyuan’s crew lately.

Shared Sun Manman’s take on me as a laugh—Shen Jing bought it hard.

“Maybe your sister’s right—you hate men? Always had that vibe, now it clicks. Sometimes you don’t seem… into guys. You’re a 1, yeah? Ever think you like men just to see them conquered, violated by you?”

Thrown. “Don’t all 1s feel that? Why else be one?”

She wagged a finger. “Nonono! Gay guys who love men aren’t as chaste as you. You don’t love them—teen mix-up, turned your beef with guys into this. You hate ‘em.”

Kept going, nodding like she’d cracked it.

Quiet a beat. “…What if I’m chaste ‘cause I’ve got someone I like?”

Both froze, synced: “What!?”

If I’m a man-hater at core—letting Mochuan conquer me now, violate me—does that mean I love him?

We tangled in the candlelit hall—whenever he’d sober up, I’d pull every trick to reel him back, make him forget his role, this place.

His Yan Guan robe cushioned me again—fingers traced my waist down.

“Wait…”

Kissed my neck—said “wait,” didn’t pull off.

“No—Mountain Lord’ll be mad…”

Flat on my back, eyes hit the lotus throne’s golden statue. Clung to him, shaky whisper in his ear. “Never done this with anyone else…”

He stopped—looked up, blank, like he didn’t catch it.

Face burning, pushed through. “I’m no player. You’ve met my two exes—never even got to hand stuff with them. Years apart from you—no one else…”

Bent my knee—words and moves hitting his senses, crumbling his will.

“Mochuan—this heart, this body—they’re yours alone.” Gasping. “Don’t you want them—mmph…”

His answer—diving back, kissing me like he’d devour me whole.