A Scumbag Always Gets What He Deserves

20: I want to protect you

Guided by Rege's words, Jian Qiao looked over.

Before his eyes, groups of disoriented people were writhing on cushioned sofas, on the carpets, even on the tables.

Have you ever seen a piece of cheese that's been parasitized by maggots? The scene in front of him was no different. Unrestrained privilege produces corruption, and corruption becomes a breeding ground for bacteria, insects, mold, and all other filthy things.

As if in a trance, Jian Qiao seemed to detect the peculiar odor of a swamp and the reek of moldy corpses emanating from it.

He stretched out his slender index finger and gently touched the tip of his nose.

The glass of red wine he'd drunk just now inundated his blood, flooding through his body. Two burning red spots slowly crept into his cheeks. He was always very pale, but now he resembled a rose on a mountainside, blooming with rare and brilliant color.

And his slightly knitted brows and tightly pursed lips added to his aura of vulnerability.

Rege glanced at him carelessly, and the light in his eyes froze.

After a while Rege looked away with difficulty, and at the same time removed the glass of wine placed next to Jian Qiao's hand.

"A glass of warm water." He snapped his fingers at the attendant standing in the corner.

The attendant immediately fetched it.

Jian Qiao realized Rege had ordered this cup of water for him, and couldn't help but feel grateful when he looked at him.

The gratitude caused his dark eyes to shine with a liquid radiance.

Rege quickly glanced at him and said in a deep voice, "No need for thanks. If you can't even drink, you'd better go back to your remote Desolette. I can't stay in Grande every day, let alone spend every moment watching you. What if I'm too late next time, what will you do?"

This was a problem Jian Qiao hadn't yet figured out how to solve, and he fell silent.

He hadn't promised to return to Desolette because there was so much he had to do.

Rege also sensed the other man was determined not to go back. He pointed to the clusters of people who were writhing like maggots and said, "See? Instead of the fresh smell of rain falling on flowers and green grass, there's only the stench of alcohol, sweat, and opium. This isn't the place for you."

The gentleman Earl was clean and pure, he really couldn't bear to see him covered in filth.

Jian Qiao picked up the glass of water and took a small sip. In a soft voice he retorted, "But here you are. Next to you, all the stench is blocked. All I can smell is a cool and refreshing fragrance, like goose feather snow falling on pine and cypress trees."

He couldn't help but twitch the tip of his nose to prove he was telling the truth.

Rege's body had a distinctive and overwhelming scent, formed by years of close contact with cold steel weapons and the oil used to maintain them.

The cool metal gave off a smell like blood because of the rust. To get rid of the rust, you had to scour it with sand and gravel, and the high heat generated by the friction made the bloody odor smell burnt. After that, the weapon maintainer rubbed fine tung oil into the cold, shining blade.

The rich smell of tung oil together with the burnt smell of iron produced a wonderful chemical reaction, finally forming a sword-like fragrance that was sweet but not too sweet, cold but not too cold.