Everyone Hates My Frail Body.

Chapter 77: Frail Body

Chapter 77: Frail Body

Song Qie finally realized how easy it was to control Lu Beihuai. The key was to be thick-skinned and not feel embarrassed.

"Useless."

His feet, slender and delicate by nature, looked especially pale against the black fabric of his trousers. He wanted to pull away when he felt something sticky beneath his soles, but then reconsidered. How could he let this man gain the upper hand?

One glance at Lu Beihuai's expression was enough—he knew the man had endured enough.

"You said you wanted me to punish you, but you can't handle it?"

Lu Beihuai hadn't expected Song Qie to catch on so quickly. Seeing him about to withdraw his feet, he smiled and said, "No, you can keep going."

"And how do you suggest I continue?" Song Qie frowned, glancing at his feet. "They're all dirty."

After that remark, Lu Beihuai seemed ready to stay up all night.

He looked up at Song Qie, noticing the slight flush on his cheeks. Though his tone and expression were filled with disgust, it felt like he was being playful. "Then I'll lick them clean."

How could my wife be dirty?

My wife is fragrant. Every part of him smells good—he can definitely be tasted anywhere.

Song Qie thought to himself, This man must have been some kind of ancient Greek god in a past life. His frankness and unabashed desire were staggering, without a trace of shame.

Beads of sweat formed on Lu Beihuai's forehead, and since this was supposed to be a punishment, Song Qie couldn't allow any more touching.

"Has the medicine's effect worn off?" Song Qie asked.

Lu Beihuai exhaled deeply. "No."

"Serves you right," Song Qie remarked, to which Lu Beihuai simply nodded.

"Then take care of it yourself." Song Qie tried to stand, but Lu Beihuai grabbed his wrist.

"Baby, lend me your hand," Lu Beihuai asked, holding his left hand since the right one was still healing.

"Lend it to you?" Song Qie echoed, realizing what he meant. His ears grew hot with irritation. He tapped his face with the back of his hand. "Lu Beihuai, you're a grown man. Can't you handle it yourself? Are we that close now?"

"Yes." Lu Beihuai didn’t want him to leave. He pulled Song Qie closer, his voice low and coaxing. "Please, wife."

The term wife was far more intimate than baby.

Song Qie swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Sweat trickled down his neck.

"You're such a dog," he muttered.

Lu Beihuai stood up, wrapping his arms around Song Qie's waist. Their bodies pressed together, sweat mixing as it dripped onto their flushed cheeks, blurring the line between whose sweat was whose.

"I told you not to call me that," Song Qie protested.

"Then it's our secret. No one else will ever call me that," Lu Beihuai whispered.

"But didn’t Song Qie call you that?"

"No, he didn’t."

"What did he call you?"

"Dog."

"And did you care?"

"I ignored him."

"Really?" Song Qie closed his eyes, feeling the heat of their closeness. He tried to push Lu Beihuai away, but his arms were unyielding.