Infinite Train
Chapter 685: Greedy
Time seemed to pause.
It might have been just a fleeting second, or as agonizingly long as a century.
Suddenly, Wen Jianyan felt his world spin. Before he could even react, he was pinned to the ground!
“……!” A breathy sound, seemingly out of control, escaped his throat.
The surrounding darkness was vast and dense, as if the entire world had faded away, leaving only the pair of scorching, flame-like golden eyes above him, looking as though they were about to devour him whole.
“Boyfriend?”
Wu Zhu chewed on the word, uttering it syllable by syllable.
Wen Jianyan was startled.
“No.”
“Not enough.”
Wu Zhu’s Adam’s apple bobbed; his voice was hoarse.
His pitch-black long hair cascaded like flowing water from his firm, undulating shoulders and back, sweeping past his propped-up arms to ensnare Wen Jianyan’s body.
He chewed on the human he had trapped in his shadow with his gaze, like a vicious beast that wouldn’t let go until it drew blood.
“Not, enough.”
Boyfriend?
No.
That word was absolutely insufficient to summarize the relationship between them.
With an impulse bordering on madness, Wu Zhu lowered his head and kissed Wen Jianyan repeatedly and fiercely—from his forehead, which was beading with fine sweat, to his delicate, burning earlobes, and down to his trembling throat, eyelids, and lips.
The relationship between them was like a sharp knife, like a raging fire—fanatical, ferocious, and simultaneously destructive and devastating.
Names carved into each other’s skin, wounds branded onto both their souls.
They were destined to entangle until the end of time, to swallow each other into their bones and blood… with absolutely no possibility of separation.
“You… haha…”
Wen Jianyan was forced to tilt his head back, letting out broken, slurred laughter between rapid, chaotic breaths.
“This is way too greedy… of you…”
“I advise you to reconsider your answer,” he laughed hoarsely, his fingers tightening on the other’s shoulders, his knuckles turning white from the force. “The competition is fierce. If you don’t seize the opportunity… there are plenty who want—ah!”
Before he could finish, his lower lip was bitten hard.
Wen Jianyan felt the pain and furrowed his brows.
“Biting,” he complained vaguely, “Deduct points—”
The next second, ice-cold lips covered his, and fingers of the same temperature tightly gripped his jaw, forcing his teeth apart to expose that annoying, silver-tongued tongue. The wet tip of his tongue was no longer protected; fragile, defenseless, soft, hot, and trembling, it was sucked out past his teeth in a retaliatory manner.
Saliva he couldn’t swallow in time slid down the corner of his lips, leaving an ambiguous wet trail on his cheek.
Wen Jianyan hooked one arm around Wu Zhu’s neck, struggling to meet his kiss.
Darkness pressed in from all directions, like a suffocating deep sea, swallowing him in a posture that felt like drowning.
Wen Jianyan could feel the other’s fingers gripping harder, his gaze growing ever more ferocious.
Realizing something, he turned his head, trying hard to avoid the other’s kisses.
“Wait… hold on… the injuries… on your body—”
Even at a time like this, Wen Jianyan still retained a thin shred of reason—he could clearly smell the heavy scent of blood on Wu Zhu.
His own, and Wu Zhu’s…
Gold and red were inextricably intertwined, bleeding into each other.
On that pale, robust skin, shattered golden patterns stretched across, with fresh blood bubbling beneath them—a shocking sight.
Wu Zhu lowered his head, pecking and kissing the arm Wen Jianyan had pressed against him, kneading the spots he had once injured with his fingertips. “Your blood isn’t enough.”
He had too many injuries.
Even if the wounds were healed, his blood couldn’t pump out again in such a short time.
His breath scorched Wen Jianyan’s skin; the newly grown skin couldn’t withstand such intense stimulation.
Wu Zhu lifted his eyes, his deep voice carrying more tremors.
“……Feed me something else.”
Wen Jianyan’s eyes hesitated; he struggled.
“Just a little.” Wu Zhu pressed against his lips, his voice low and slow. “I won’t eat much.”
“……A little?”
Wen Jianyan’s voice softened, his willpower seemingly disintegrating bit by bit.
“Mm, a little,” Wu Zhu promised.
At his hip, the deep curse marks radiated a scorching heat. Fire ignited, crackling as it climbed up his tailbone—there must definitely be some spell hidden here, making his bones soft and his muscles weak, actually causing his head to spin along with it.
Wen Jianyan said hoarsely: “……O-Okay.”
Just a little.
A little bit… should be fine…
Wen Jianyan’s upper body leaned back uncontrollably, trembling beneath the other’s near-frantic kisses.
“Wait…” He jolted awake from his daze, struggling to free one hand and fumbling to undo his buttons, his movements as trembling as his voice. “Wait! Don’t ruin my clothes, I-I still have to wear them later—”
His shaking fingers slipped off the surface of the buttons. He had completely lost his usual dexterity, appearing exceptionally clumsy.
The next second, his buttons popped off, clinking as they bounced away and disappeared into the darkness.
Freed from their restraints, his shirt spread open to the sides, revealing the young man’s rapidly rising and falling chest and abdomen. The large swath of skin from his neck downwards turned completely red, burning all the way below his collarbone. Traces of undried blood still lingered on the supple lines of his body.
Fuck!
Wen Jianyan cursed.
However, before he had time to regret it, he felt physical entities formed of shadows winding around him from all directions.
They grabbed the young man’s slender, white ankles, sucked at his calves, and hooked behind his knees.
Cold, large palms supported his collapsing, strengthless waist, pulling him toward himself.
In the dim, fragmented light and shadow, Wen Jianyan glanced down. Just catching a glimpse of the shadow, his entire body couldn’t help but shudder—Holy shit, he had forgotten about this guy’s—chaotic fire burned on his cheeks. He gritted his teeth, suppressing his trembling:
“Wait, if you force it… like this, I’ll fucking… die.”
He raised his hand and pressed it against Wu Zhu’s chest, making a fierce-sounding but inwardly weak threat: “You… if you dare hurt me even a little, I’ll kill you, understand?”
Wu Zhu paused. His scorching gaze fixed on Wen Jianyan, as if to singe his skin.
“How to do it?” His voice was even hoarser than before.
“Tell me. I learn very fast.”
Wen Jianyan squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He turned his head away, his forehead pressing against his fist. The side of his warm neck was glistening with sweat, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down:
“Don’t move—I’ll do it—”
Wu Zhu’s gaze slowly followed the movement of his fingers downwards. His pupils sharply contracted, and his chest heaved rapidly, stimulated by the sight before him.
Wen Jianyan kept his eyes squeezed shut tightly. Even so, he could still feel the other’s tangible stare. He clenched his teeth, his movements clumsy, forcing himself not to make a single sound—even though he was nothing more than an armchair strategist, compared to Wu Zhu, he was at least slightly better by a margin of…
The next second, some cold, gelatinous substance wrapped around his fingers, traveling along the veins on the back of his hand to the tips, wedging itself in along the lines of his palm.
“Uh?!”
Wen Jianyan’s eyes flew open, his pupils dilating in shock as he stared at Wu Zhu in astonishment.
“Like this?” Wu Zhu asked.
“……” Wen Jianyan was dumbstruck, glaring at him in shock, his words stumbling, “You, y-you—”
Before he could finish, his body violently arched up, thrashing like a live fish.
“Uhh-ahhhh—”
Wen Jianyan’s vision swam. Even in death, he could never have imagined that these cold, terrifying shadows—like the very incarnation of death—could be used for this… Not only could they secrete something outward, but they could even drill inside as if they were alive, instantly making him tense up, unable to do anything but tremble and constantly suck in cold air.
Wu Zhu lowered his head, licking his throat, his eyes filled with a heavy, dense shadow.
“I told you…”
“I learn very fast.”
The darkness was like a surging tide.
On the dead silent sea, waves drifted. Beneath the seemingly calm, boundless black water, endless undercurrents and terrifying monstrous waves seemed to be hidden.
And deeper, deeper within the ship…
At the bottom of the abyss that no one could peer into, in that narrow space seemingly forgotten by the world with only the two of them left, burned a melting, blazing fire that threatened to burn everything to the ground, to incinerate bone and blood.
The process was far more difficult than imagined.
Wen Jianyan shuddered uncontrollably.
He kept his head down, his forehead resting on Wu Zhu’s shoulder, his voice unknowingly becoming unbelievably hoarse: “I can’t… I can’t I can’t I can’t… d-don’t… let me catch my breath…”
Wu Zhu supported his back with his palm.
Beneath his palm, the human young man’s skin was burning hot and drenched in sweat, sticking tightly to him as if possessing a magnetic pull. He could feel the other’s shoulder blades spreading like wings, trembling in suffocation.
The trembling, bent neck bones… rolled vividly beneath the flesh, bone by bone, extending softly downwards to dip deeply at the waist.
His eyes were almost entirely gold-red, the shadows in their depths so thick they seemed to overflow.
Looking as though he wanted to chew the other alive bite by bite and swallow him whole into his stomach.
That look was terrifying.
But his voice was deadly suppressed—low and hoarse, almost peaceful and gentle…
“……What about this?”
With an experimental exploration, the surrounding shadows grew thicker.
“Do you want a little more?”
Beneath his palm, the spine suddenly snapped straight for a second, then went completely limp as if all strength had been drained from it.
“You fucking…” Wen Jianyan cursed, a sob creeping into his voice, trembling slightly, “How about… how about you just give me a quick death… I really can’t take it anymore…”
The next second, his voice locked dead in his throat.
It wasn’t that Wen Jianyan didn’t want to speak at this moment; it was that he truly couldn’t make a sound anymore.
In the darkness flowed an endless, inexhaustible golden river.
That river, like a vast, dense net, wove brilliant golden channels across the sky.
But without warning, a storm surged in the river channels, and everything lost its original shape.
And so, under that world-destroying power, everything became irrational, broken, and fragmented.
The human youth’s soft, white back arched into a curve, his lower abdomen tightening suffocatingly. Sweat flowed like a golden river over his pale skin, his muscles spasming in waves, the bulging contours beneath faintly visible.
“…………”
Wen Jianyan’s pupils dilated; his throat lost its voice.
He could faintly hear bizarre water sounds in his ears, but wasn’t sure if it was a hallucination.
The storm wreaked havoc within his body, destroying order like splitting bamboo—dismantling and reassembling blood vessels, meridians, bones… A massive wave crashed head-on, effortlessly sweeping everything away, bringing a bewildering, helpless sense of losing control.
“Does it hurt?” In the darkness, Wu Zhu’s gaze was mere inches away.
It didn’t actually hurt.
But it was indescribable, unacceptable.
“It hurts, of course it hurts…”
Wen Jianyan gritted his teeth.
He tilted his head back in exhaustion, his vision repeatedly going black. He took deep, forceful breaths, his exhales hot and trembling, “I said, if you hurt me, I’ll…” So you’d better fucking end this—
“I’ll kill you.” Wu Zhu bit the tip of his ear. “I remember.”
The moment his words fell, the darkness from all directions swarmed forward.
Every wisp seemed to possess its own consciousness, clamping dead onto the human’s soft, fiery skin.
From his trembling, rolling Adam’s apple, to his taut waistline, to his chest which had already been rubbed red, not a single spot was left out.
Even between his curled toes, they were tightly intertwined.
“——————”
The stimulation came too intensely. In just a brief moment, Wen Jianyan only felt sparks flying on the inside of his eyelids. He clenched his jaw, his body arching uncontrollably.
After the stupor passed, he lowered his head in shock and bewilderment.
With just a glance, he withdrew his gaze in extreme panic.
Wu Zhu’s lowered voice came near his ear: “How about now, does it still hurt?”
The surrounding darkness was like a sponge, and Wen Jianyan sank into it, devoid of strength. The shadows surged in, airtight. In this endless, boundless, long ocean, no strength could support him. He felt like a piece of fruit being bitten and squeezed—first, the skin was broken slightly by teeth, and then, slowly, the sweet juice was sucked out, leaving absolutely nothing behind.
Whether it was tears… or sweat…
The moment they flowed out, they were immediately eaten completely clean.
“Does it still hurt?” Wu Zhu pressed relentlessly.
“No, it doesn’t hurt anymore!” The sensation brought by sensory overload was far more brutal than pain. This time, Wen Jianyan truly broke down a little. He sucked in air intermittently, as panicked as a drowning person, “Seriously… how about you just let it hurt instead… I can’t…”
“No.” Wu Zhu pulled at his arm, kissing him, his voice like a whisper. “I promised you.”
“It won’t hurt.”
The young man leaned back as if drained of strength. From his throat to his chest formed a perfect, complete arc, violently rising and falling with his breathing. The large expanse of snow-white skin was drenched in sweat and glistening, like a snowy field bathed in moonlight, making one unable to resist the urge to leave a few teeth marks and finger indents on it.
If the right spot was found… the bright color of pinkish-red would surface on the snow, and a vivid, trembling spring would instantly leap up like sea waves.
Once again.
“Wait…” Wen Jianyan struggled amidst the overloaded senses. He grabbed Wu Zhu’s arm with difficulty, his voice hoarse, “You said… just a little… I… I already, twice, that’s enough… you can’t…!”
“But.”
Wu Zhu lowered his head, biting his collarbone.
His pupils narrowed into slits, like a vicious beast that had just tasted blood.
“I’m still on my first time, it’s not over.”
Wen Jianyan: “……”
Never in his life had he so deeply regretted a moment of losing his head.
He should have known…
He should have known!!
In the boundless darkness independent of the world, only a patch of chaos remained.
Everything, tangible and intangible, inverted along with it.
It seemed that from this moment on, the world no longer cared for heaven or earth, much less past or future, humans or gods.
In this seemingly endless, grand sacrifice, the human young man was like a beautiful lamb waiting to be slaughtered, or a dying swan pierced by thorns and hoisted alive into the air. With just a slight movement of the thorns, the swan would thrash hysterically again, shuddering and trembling due to a series of—most likely completely unrelated to pain—wondrous chain reactions, eventually forced to curl up into the darkness and cry out plaintively.
Even though that darkness was the very culprit of it all.
Finally, after an unknown amount of time, Wen Jianyan began to sob, looking utterly pitiful.
“Wu, Wu Zhu, buddy… darling… baby… can we be a little normal… we’ve at least… at least done it for the first time, the rest… we can do later—”
He tried every possible way, racking his brains to say sweet words in hopes of escaping his current predicament, but he soon realized that no matter how much he flapped his lips, it was entirely useless—by the final sentence, the ending note of his voice violently shook, trembling as it pitched up, only to be forcibly swallowed into a long silence once again.
Fuck…
Wen Jianyan was in despair. Looking at the swaying light above, he struggled to shove his fingers between his teeth and bit down hard in order to swallow back all the forced sounds. But soon, his attempt was discovered by Wu Zhu, and the other mercilessly stopped his near-self-mutilating behavior.
“You’ll get hurt,” Wu Zhu whispered hoarsely.
He pressed his own fingers against Wen Jianyan’s teeth.
“You can bite me; you won’t get hurt.”
Wu Zhu leaned down and kissed him:
“And I like it.”
Before being entangled by the darkness once again, tears fell from Wen Jianyan’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but sob:
“You… ugh… pervert!”
