WIL CH 12

Chapter 12: Sick and Yet Doing It

A layer of mist clouded Lin Xi’s panicked eyes. “I really don’t feel well…”

The man pressing down on him was trembling, and along with that trembling came a shared, unspeakable shiver between them both. Wen Feng finally turned on the hot water. He stripped off his soaked clothes and tossed them aside. Facing Lin Xi’s bare body, skin against skin, he knelt between those pale, slender legs—his eyes tinged red, staring fixedly at his prey, like a wild animal ready to claim its mate in a feverish rut.

There was no doubt—Wen Feng was the king of beasts, giving his partner no room to resist. Among animals, marking one’s mate was a way to affirm possession and belonging. And tonight, Wen Feng wanted to mark Lin Xi so deeply that his scent would forever remain.

His voice was low, coaxing, filled with dangerous temptation. “Xi Xi, it’ll feel good. I’ll make you feel good.”

His breath spilled hot against Lin Xi’s ear. Lin Xi’s whole body was flushed red. As the water temperature rose, a shred of reason returned to him—tonight, Wen Feng was terrifying. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

The water suddenly rippled violently, waves splashing like a storm breaking loose. The sound of water slapping, mixing with muffled gasps, filled the steamy bathroom. Two shadowy figures clung tightly together in the mist, leaving no gap between them. As the steam swirled, their movements became more urgent, more forceful—waves scattering, then gathering again, over and over.

Lin Xi felt as though he were drowning. Summoning all his strength, he kicked Wen Feng’s calf and rasped out hoarsely, “Wen Feng, use a condom.”

Something in Wen Feng snapped. The moment Lin Xi’s words fell, his stubbled chin pressed hard against Lin Xi’s smooth shoulder, biting down until he tasted blood before releasing. His voice was rough and possessive. “No. I want you to feel me—only me—inside you.”

Wen Feng thrust into Lin Xi’s body without restraint, driving in and out in a relentless rhythm.

Lin Xi threw his head back with a cry. “It hurts!”

Pain—burning, tearing—everywhere.

Wen Feng pressed him down, groaning low, pushing even deeper. “Endure it.”

Lin Xi clutched at his hair, his voice broken and strained. “Be gentle… don’t do this…”

The pressure below was unbearable, a splitting ache threatening to tear him apart.

Wen Feng’s movements grew crueler, grinding against Lin Xi’s most sensitive spot. “Then how do you want it? Like this?” He found a tender place deep inside and began pounding into it, over and over, each thrust rougher than the last. Water splashed wildly around them, waves colliding in rhythm with their movements.

“……”

No one knew how many times it happened—until Lin Xi finally trembled violently beneath him and spilled, his release clouding the water. The air was thick with heat and an indescribable scent.

But Wen Feng was far from done—he hadn’t even reached his limit. He brushed against Lin Xi’s ear, voice soft yet tainted with dark desire. “You liked that, didn’t you, Xi Xi? Say it. Tell me you liked it… you liked it, didn’t you?”

He repeated it again and again, but Lin Xi only bit his lip and stayed silent.

Wen Feng refused to relent. His tone dropped, low and dangerous. “Why won’t you say it?”

***

The bedside lamp cast its glow across Lin Xi’s face. The light was a little too bright, making his eyelashes tremble slightly. Wen Feng reached out and turned off the lamp, leaving only the faint light of the small desk lamp—enough for him to keep an eye on the IV drip.

Half-conscious, Lin Xi felt a sting on the back of his hand, followed by a soft touch pressing against it. Slowly, he opened his eyes, his vision blurred and unfocused. Wen Feng lifted the quilt and lay down beside him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Isn’t it good to stay by my side?”

Lin Xi blinked, but Wen Feng’s face remained hazy before his eyes. He gave up trying to see clearly and drifted back into sleep.

In his dreams, Lin Xi saw the scene of his parents’ divorce when he was six. Lin Youshan and Li Jingshu were arguing fiercely. His grandmother’s family came to support Li Jingshu, determined to make them separate. Lin Xi didn’t understand what the adults were doing—he just sat on a small stool on the balcony, watching them argue about the dowry. Li Jingshu’s side demanded it back, but Lin Youshan had already squandered all the money trying to open a restaurant, only to lose everything.

His grandfather, old and gray-haired but hot-tempered, was furious that he couldn’t get justice for his daughter. In his anger, he slapped Lin Youshan across the face. The loud crack startled six-year-old Lin Xi, who hunched his shoulders tightly, afraid to even look up.

The quarrel went on for a long time. In the end, Lin Xi’s grandmother packed Li Jingshu’s things. She felt deeply guilty—she couldn’t take Lin Xi with her. A divorced woman with a child would have a hard time surviving, and Lin Youshan refused to give up custody.

Holding little Lin Xi in her arms, Li Jingshu wept bitterly. “Xi Xi, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mommy’s sorry.”

Her tears wouldn’t stop as her father pulled her away. She kept turning back with every step, reluctant to leave. But that day, Lin Xi didn’t cry. He had seen his mother cry too many times—seen her gentle, pretty face marked by bruises. He didn’t understand the world of adults; he only thought that if his mother went away with Grandpa, she might not cry anymore, she might stop getting hurt.

He sat on the balcony, clutching the rusted window bars, peering through the small gaps as his mother’s figure grew smaller and smaller, until she disappeared completely.

The darkness in his vision gradually lightened. The familiar ceiling came into focus above him. He heard Wen Feng’s low voice. Turning his head slightly, he saw Wen Feng standing by the window, still in his loungewear. The curtain was half-drawn, sunlight spilling into the room, filling it with warmth. Wen Feng held a phone to his ear, speaking in a quiet tone.

“Have all the videos been taken down?”
“Mm. We found the original uploader. Draft a legal letter immediately.”
“As for Jiang Boqing, the Xie family will make him pay for it—but I won’t let him off easily either.”
“Alright. That’s all for now.”

As Wen Feng spoke, Lin Xi’s foggy mind began to clear, and memories of last night played back vividly. He and Jiang Boqing had been secretly filmed at the engagement party, and the video had been posted online. Before Lin Xi could even see it for himself, Wen Feng had already lashed out—judging and punishing him, stripping away his dignity, when he hadn’t done anything wrong at all.

When Wen Feng turned around, he met Lin Xi’s eyes—full of hurt, laced with a faint trace of resentment.

Wen Feng caught that look, and his expression darkened slightly. He walked over to the bed, set his phone on the nightstand, and gently offered a glass of warm water. “Would you like some water?”

Lin Xi said nothing. He turned away from him, showing only his back. Right now, he didn’t want to face Wen Feng. He closed his eyes, pretending not to notice the man still standing beside the bed.

The mattress dipped slightly. Wen Feng’s scent filled the air. The weight at Lin Xi’s waist deepened as Wen Feng turned him around in the covers. Lin Xi kept his eyes shut, remaining silent.

After a moment, Wen Feng let out a long sigh. His voice was low and hoarse above Lin Xi’s head. “Xi Xi, I’m sorry. I was too impulsive last night.”

(To be continued…)