Chapter 9: Sinful Desires

Near the lakeside, many bars clustered together, but “Vampire” was the most extravagant night club in the area. The reason was simple: it was owned by vampires, and most of its patrons were vampires as well.

Alcohol melted into the air, thick with the scent of champagne. Vampires, by nature, were a race of ultimate indulgence and decadence. Though they restrained themselves somewhat after blending into human society, here, within these walls, their masks were cast aside completely.

A circle of handsome men and beautiful women sat at the bar, but one youth drew particular attention. It wasn’t that his looks were more striking than the others; rather, his clean-cut demeanor made him seem like a student. He wore no heavy eyeliner or shadow, no form-fitting leather clothes—his attire was simple and unadorned. So when he walked through the door, many vampires assumed he was just a foolish human.

Ignoring the bold and curious stares, Qiao Nian walked straight to the bar. Stray locks of hair veiled his cool, indifferent eyes, and the cigarette glowing between his fingers flickered with a dim, eerie light.

He seemed a curiosity, stepping into the bar like this.

Soon enough, a vampire came over to flirt, but Qiao Nian never paid them any mind. After finishing his cigarette, he began drinking—downing bottle after bottle of vodka as if it were nothing more than water.

A red-haired male vampire approached, lifting Qiao Nian’s chin with long, black nails. Raising his head, Qiao Nian was met with blood-red eyes and sharp fangs.

A vampire showing their true form in this manner didn’t signal aggression or hostility; rather, it was a clear sign of courtship.

Qiao Nian showed no particular aversion to the approach. Emboldened, the man leaned in, his tongue gliding across the smooth skin of Qiao Nian’s neck.

With a teasing smile, the man murmured, “How odd. No red rose on your neck—so you can’t bear offspring?”

A careless glint flashed in Qiao Nian’s eyes as he tilted his lips in a faint smirk. “Is that really so important?”

Though he looked every bit the refined, handsome youth, his gaze was languid and intoxicating, a contrast that made him all the more alluring.

The man stroked Qiao Nian’s chin, his lips close to Qiao Nian’s ear as he spoke in a husky voice, “Or is enjoying the process what truly matters?”

Qiao Nian said nothing, merely curling his lips in silent indifference. His cool detachment only stirred the man’s desire further. Just as he was about to lean in, intent on biting Qiao Nian’s lips, the door was suddenly thrown open.

Not another vampire, but a human.

Several bodyguards in black surged in, their imposing frames blocking the entrance completely.

One of them approached Qiao Nian and spoke in a low voice, “The Third Master wants to see you.”

Qiao Nian couldn’t be bothered to respond; he simply fished out another cigarette and lit it.

The bodyguard waited by his side, but Qiao Nian only kept smoking. At last, the guard lost patience and grabbed Qiao Nian’s arm.

The red-haired vampire instantly lashed out, sending the bodyguard sprawling across the floor.

There were bloody gashes on the man’s neck.

The bodyguard, fuming, climbed to his feet and wiped his neck, his hand coming away drenched in blood. Pulling a gun from his waistband, he fired a round at the red-haired vampire.

Ordinary bullets and weapons could not harm vampires, so the vampire had no intention of dodging. He merely stood there, a smile of scorn and disdain on his lips.

But suddenly, the smile froze. The bullet pierced his heart, and the wound refused to heal!

Only then did the vampires realize the bullets were silver—deadly to their kind, crafted for this very purpose. These humans had come prepared. Instantly, anger erupted among the vampires. One of them lunged at the guard from behind, only to be shot in the shoulder, blood gushing.

How could the proud blood race tolerate such insolence from base humans? In a flash, they revealed their true forms, throats issuing hoarse, guttural growls, heads twisting unnaturally on their shoulders as they glared savagely at the armed guards, encircling them.

The vampires attacked almost as one, but collapsed before they could strike—the air was thick with the poisonous black rose powder.

The guards, guns in hand, looked down at the vampires writhing on the floor.

Fury welled in Qiao Nian’s chest. Gritting his teeth, he roared, “Don’t shoot! I’ll come with you!”

The guards coldly holstered their weapons, forced Qiao Nian’s hands behind his back, and dragged him out. Parked not far away were several cars. A man who appeared to be their leader stood waiting, utterly composed.

Human curiosity was always a vile, frightening thing—such as the urge to tame vampires. The blood race, with their beautiful faces and enchanting bodies, were sometimes kept as sex slaves by certain depraved humans.

The man seized Qiao Nian by the hair, grinning menacingly. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just cooperate?”

Qiao Nian glared at him with such hatred that it seemed blood might well from his eyes.

The savage, bloodthirsty beast within him threatened to break free once more.

“Take him back!” the man ordered.

Two guards hauled Qiao Nian into a car, which sped off.

In the dim room of a secret hotel, guards stood outside the door, while the air inside was thick with sordid lust. The man clung to the youth’s body with wild abandon, Qiao Nian’s smooth, pale skin bared in the gloom.

Uncontrollably, his fangs lengthened—the bloodlust within had utterly escaped his control.

Qiao Nian lifted his face, his eyes swirling with red—a sign of bloodthirst and slaughter.

His blood-soaked coat had long since been torn to shreds, the remains used to wrap the corpse and all flushed down the toilet.

Then, Qiao Nian climbed out the bathroom window.

On the city’s bustling main thoroughfare, the youth wandered unsteadily in a thin shirt. A torrential rain had washed the city clean not long ago; the air was fresh, the night sky clear.

Qiao Nian reeked of alcohol, and passersby gave him a wide berth.

His steps were uneven, the puddles and mud splattering his clothes.

He was filthy, but he no longer cared.

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Having finished his shopping, Han Qi stepped out of the supermarket as the rain came to a stop.

He walked to the roadside, waiting for the light to turn green.

Suddenly, someone collided heavily with him, a strong smell of alcohol hitting him in the face.

It was a youth, barely able to stand, dressed in a flimsy shirt, a picture of utter disarray.

The boy lifted his head slightly, and his delicate, handsome face made a deep impression on Han Qi.

“It’s you?” Han Qi steadied him, worry etched in his voice. “Are you all right?”

The youth squinted drunkenly at Han Qi, scrutinizing him so closely that Han Qi felt uneasy, instinctively wanting to step back. Yet the other suddenly lunged forward, clinging to his arm and slurring, “Don’t leave me, take… take me home…”

Passersby looked their way in surprise, and Han Qi felt exceedingly awkward—it was as if he were the one abandoning the youth.

“Where do you live? I’ll take you home…”

“I don’t have a home…”

Before he could finish, Qiao Nian doubled over and began to vomit, though he’d eaten nothing, bringing up only sour liquid.

Han Qi began to sweat in anxiety. The boy was clearly very drunk—taking him home was impossible, and returning him to some unscrupulous bar owner was out of the question. Sighing helplessly, he hailed a taxi and brought Qiao Nian straight back to his own apartment.

Qiao Nian handled his liquor well—he neither ranted nor babbled. He simply curled up on the sofa, squinting drunken eyes that were unfocused and vacant.

Han Qi poured him a cup of sobering tea, but when Qiao Nian didn’t take it, he had to bring the cup to the boy’s lips and coax the tea down his throat.

The warm liquid helped Qiao Nian regain some clarity. He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to see Han Qi’s face more clearly. Suddenly, he hugged Han Qi tightly around the waist. Han Qi stood still, allowing the embrace for a moment, but when Qiao Nian refused to let go, he tried to pry his fingers free—only to hear the boy’s soft murmur.

“Che…”

The word was gentle, yet sorrowful.

Even after a cup of tea, Qiao Nian remained dazed and unfocused.

Han Qi had meant to get him into the shower, but seeing the youth’s exhausted, dejected state, he decided not to push him. He slipped Qiao Nian’s arm over his shoulder, intending to take him to the bedroom, but Qiao Nian stubbornly clung to the sofa.

“Go sleep in the bed—it’s more comfortable,” Han Qi coaxed.

Qiao Nian stared at him with hazy eyes for a long while before speaking. “So it’s you…”

Han Qi frowned. “Call me whoever you like, but you’re still sleeping in the bed.”

Qiao Nian dodged his hand and suddenly laughed. “I remember… You… you’re the source, the origin… you’re the blood key…”

Han Qi dismissed it as drunken nonsense, refusing to argue with a drunk. He forcibly hauled Qiao Nian up from the sofa and half-carried, half-dragged him to the bedroom.

Seeing only one bed, Qiao Nian refused to get in.

Han Qi was losing patience. “I don’t mind at all!”

“No… no…” Qiao Nian waved his hand. “If Suyu finds out, he’ll kill me…”

At that name, Han Qi froze, releasing Qiao Nian’s arm, causing him to fall heavily to the floor.

Qiao Nian curled up in pain. “You could at least warn me before letting go…”

In the end, Qiao Nian relented. Han Qi’s bed was large enough for two men, after all.

Because of Qiao Nian’s words, Han Qi couldn’t stop thinking about Suyu. After much hesitation, he finally leaned close to Qiao Nian’s ear and asked, “You know Suyu?”

Lost in a fog, Qiao Nian didn’t register the question, only nodded absently.

“So what is his true identity?”

Qiao Nian offered no answer, his eyes unfocused, on the verge of sleep.

Han Qi refused to give up, shaking his arm. “Don’t fall asleep—tell me…”

Qiao Nian’s mind drifted again, his face sorrowful as he murmured, “I… love him very much…”

At that, Han Qi fell utterly still.

So that was why he went out drinking.

Han Qi slowly moved away, watching Qiao Nian in silence, unsure how much time passed until finally the boy slipped into deep sleep.

Perhaps it was his profound lack of security, but Qiao Nian curled himself tightly, like an infant in the womb.