Pain, blood.
The wails flooding the screen sent tremors through Tong Sui’s nerves, draining the color from his face. His fingers curled up tightly, trembling from the tension.
“He is in great pain,” the system explained.
[In the world of the insect race, female insects are merely instruments for emotional release. Whether it be through a whip or some form of expression, they have to endure.]
“It shouldn’t be like this.”
The system responded, [Inflicting pain on others can heighten their excitement. This pleasure, which transcends life and dignity, often captivates male insects more than mere emotional release.]
“… Enough.”
Tong Sui’s head throbbed with the system’s unyielding rhetoric, his voice infused with a hint of weakness, “Please turn it off, I don’t want to watch anymore.”
System: [Have you not learned anything?]
“I won’t learn that.”
Tong Sui rolled over on the bed, covering himself with the soft blanket, wrapping himself in a small cocoon, as if that could enhance his sense of safety.
“I don’t want to see Luo Luo in pain.”
Seeing Tong Sui’s dejected expression, the system fell silent.
Fine.
It admitted there was some intentionality involved.
Deliberately selecting the most intolerable piece from the vast array of study materials for the host was intentional, but it promised that it also served to protect the host!
At least, the temporary pain now could offset the prolonged suffering later on.
Emotions were an unnecessary burden for missions; the best hosts should treat things as a business and should not develop feelings.
This aspect, Tong Sui would understand better after experiencing a few more worlds!
Finally, the sound of water stopped.
A faint sound of the door creaking open brought with it the dampness and cool fragrance of water.
Drip, drip, drop—the droplets slid down from the damp ends of his hair, forming a winding water mark on the clean, cold floor.
He approached the bedside.
In the center of the large bed, a lump shaped like a being was tightly wrapped in blankets, only faintly discernible.
Bai Xingluo lightly pressed against one corner, exuding a chill from the moist air, like some kind of soft aquatic plant.
He whispered, “Are you asleep?”
The bedding was tightly packed, enveloping Tong Sui so completely that he felt like a little bun steaming in a bamboo basket.
Bai Xingluo said, “It’s stuffy to sleep like this.”
He reached to pull at the corner of the blanket, and as soon as his hand went in, he felt the warmth underneath, fingertips brushing against something.
It was soft, soft like melted water.
Bai Xingluo’s throat tightened, gripping the blanket with a little more force, “Let me arrange the blanket for you.”
But this time, Bai Xingluo sensed a slight yet stubborn resistance from under the blanket.
“Luo Luo.”
He recognized immediately that the tone of the voice was not quite right, somewhat muffled and even a bit disheartened and guilty.
“Male Lord? What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Ever since the last time he fell ill, Bai Xingluo had become anxious right away, fearful of hurting Tong Sui but even more terrified of him being sick.
Bai Xingluo’s hand slipped inside using the gentlest touch, almost disregarding the slight resistance, pulling Tong Sui out from beneath the thick protective shell.
Perhaps it was too stuffy under the blanket, but Tong Sui’s face was damp, his skin tinged with a natural flush of red.
Avoiding Bai Xingluo’s gaze, Tong Sui lowered his eyes, the damp lashes veiling his glimmering pupils, looking uncomfortable.
“I’ll take you to the hospital for a check-up.”
Bai Xingluo’s hand was blocked as Tong Sui grasped his hand, cold as ice, recalling the cruel scenes from the video, shuddering slightly.
“I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
The Male Lord was perfectly normal when Bai Xingluo left; how could he have changed so much in such a short time?
Tong Sui’s gaze fell on the scars on Bai Xingluo’s body, seeming as if they had been burned by a tongue of fire.
Bai Xingluo’s physical training had given him a smooth, toned muscular structure.
These already scabbed wounds felt like flaws harshly scratched onto an artwork that was meant to awe all who gazed upon it.
Tong Sui reached out, fingers echoing the painful wails from his recollection, gently tapping one of the scabs.
“It must hurt.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, Male Lord. I’ve been taking good care of it.”
Bai Xingluo replied, “Do you not like my scars? They will heal; these wounds will become shallow.”
“That’s not it. I’m just afraid it’ll bring you more pain.”
Tong Sui thought, if something could only bring him joy without caring about the other person’s feelings, how selfish that would be.
“Pain, why do you think of it that way?”
Under Bai Xingluo’s question, Tong Sui let his eyelids droop, unable to meet his gaze, “Isn’t that kind of thing very painful?”
“Who told you that?”
Bai Xingluo leaned a bit closer, along with the chill from his body cooling Tong Sui down, “Were you worried about this?”
Tong Sui nodded.
“It wasn’t someone who told me; it was what I saw myself…”
“You saw it yourself?”
Bai Xingluo could gather that those male insects, lowly as they were, liked to use some methods in those kinds of matters, turning the scenes bloody, and uploading it to the Star Network for more attention.
He could imagine the naive Male Lord, deeply impacted upon seeing such bloody content.
Frightened and wrapped in the blanket, fearing more pain for himself.
“We won’t be like them.”
Bai Xingluo gently comforted him, using his lips to wipe away the excess tears, “Don’t be afraid; leave it all to me; will you trust me?”
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