Chapter 112: Lin Mu, I Want to Possess You

The woman had left, but the hand around his waist remained.

Lin Mu lowered his head and glanced down. A slender index finger was lightly tapping against his waist.

Once, and then again.

The slight vibration passed through the fabric, as if his entire waist was being struck by something. It began to burn, a searing heat spreading across his skin.

Lin Mu withdrew his gaze, his brows and eyes tinged with a faint blush. He lifted his head slightly and looked at Fu Jingmo. “You…”

The man beside him tilted his head back and downed the wine in his cup in one gulp. “Hmm? Still want to be harassed?”

The teasing words inexplicably made Lin Mu feel a hint of gritted frustration.

“…”

Lin Mu was speechless. Wasn’t it you doing the harassing?

He had drunk two glasses of wine, and at this moment, the corners of his eyes were slightly flushed, his almond-shaped eyes carrying a faint mistiness.

The dim blue light fell on Lin Mu’s face, making him appear like an untouchable youth submerged beneath an icy blue surface.

An inexplicable urge surged within Fu Jingmo—a desire to utterly destroy this person.

However, before he could act, He Ze swooped in to snatch Lin Mu away.

“Wow, Lin Mu, I can’t keep up with their drinking! Help me out! Please, save me! Save me!!”

Lin Mu was pulled away by He Ze but glanced back at Fu Jingmo, sensing that he didn’t seem particularly happy.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t Shen Daozhang around to help?”

At the mention of this, He Ze became annoyed. “Shen Daozhang? He doesn’t touch a drop of alcohol!! Completely unreliable!”

…

It was unclear whether the mutated humans had developed better alcohol tolerance or if it was something else, but despite several bottles being emptied, no one had been knocked out yet.

The elegant cocktail party had devolved into a drinking fest, with everyone indulging. Lin Mu glanced around the room.

Apart from Shen Rangchen, who sat calmly on the sofa, completely unaffected, everyone else had flushed faces and seemed slightly tipsy.

He was pushed to the edge of the sofa, and soon a glass of wine was handed to him.

Clinking glasses with someone whose name he didn’t know, he downed the drink in one go, the liquid sliding smoothly down his throat.

Forget it. It was rare to have a moment to relax. Perhaps drinking and letting himself get drunk for once wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Fu Jingmo’s gaze darkened as he stared at the person on the sofa. Among the noisy crowd, his eyes were drawn solely to the youth in the silver-gray suit.

The fair neck tilted back as the boy drank, a trace of pale golden champagne slipping past his lips, trailing down his neck, and disappearing into his collar.

He felt as though he, too, was intoxicated. Picking up another glass from the bar, he drank it down in one gulp.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, men who have never been in a relationship are so dull,” 

Ye Xing said, shaking her head mockingly at Fu Jingmo while clinging to Chen Yu’s arm.

“Uncle Chen, let’s go keep Mumu company and drink with him,” she added.

Helplessly, Chen Yu allowed himself to be dragged into the drinking crowd.

Seeing them join in, Lin Mu wanted to call Fu Jingmo over. He looked up toward where he had been standing earlier, but the person who had been by the table was nowhere to be seen.

“Mumu, here you go.”

Another glass was handed to him. Lin Mu glanced around briefly before retracting his gaze and accepting the drink.

Lin Mu didn’t have a great alcohol tolerance. After drinking several glasses quickly and aggressively, he immediately felt his head spinning. Feeling hot, he unbuttoned two buttons on his shirt.

“Come on, let’s keep going!”

“Don’t chicken out!”

“Damn it, I’m about to get serious now!”

The lively voices rose and fell in waves.

The zombie python had been a blade hanging over Shancheng’s head. Now that it had been dealt with, everyone was overjoyed.

It meant that, at least for a long while, nothing would threaten the lives of the people in Shancheng.

The Lucong River served as the best natural barrier.

They believed that as long as they persevered, even if there were millions of zombies on the other side, they could deal with them bit by bit. 

The future once again seemed to hold a glimmer of hope.

They were overjoyed and deeply grateful to the few mutants who had come to Shancheng.

When the last of the red wine at the bottom of his glass was gone, Lin Mu shook his head, deciding to head to the restroom.

The mix of various alcoholic drinks hit him hard, making everything feel like a kaleidoscope of swirling, distorted colors.

The Roman column staircase appeared wobbly and uneven. He carefully navigated around it and made his way toward the restroom.

Sure enough, he had drunk too much. Rolling up his sleeves by two folds, he stood in front of the sink, washing his hands. When he looked up, he saw his reflection in the mirror.

His fair face was flushed, a deep red. It had been too long since he’d drunk this much, and everything felt like it was spinning.

The restroom was very quiet. After drying his hands, he opened a stall door and, holding onto the door frame for balance, swayed his way inside.

As the door closed, a tall figure squeezed in behind him. The familiar, cold cedar scent enveloped him forcefully.

Immediately, a strong hand wrapped around his waist, skillfully spinning him around and pressing him tightly against the wooden partition of the stall.

Lin Mu’s already dazed mind spun even more from this, leaving him feeling even more disoriented. He raised his head to look at the person in front of him.

What met his eyes was a white shirt, a tantalizing collarbone, and an Adam’s apple that subtly bobbed.

“W-What’s… wrong…? Is… there something?” 

Lin Mu stammered, nearly biting his own tongue as he spoke.

“You’re drunk. Let’s go back.”

Fu Jingmo lowered his head. He wanted to take Lin Mu away, to stop him from drinking with those people and smiling at them.

The person in front of him shook his head, his scorching breath brushing against Fu Jingmo’s neck. A fair hand waved in front of his eyes as Lin Mu mumbled,

“I’m not going back… I can still drink…”

Being drunk was nice—it allowed him to escape, even if just for a moment.

Escape from everything about Xiao Yuan, from all those complicated, entangled thoughts that he couldn’t untangle.

The hand around his waist tightened slightly. Fu Jingmo’s gaze remained sharp and clear as he looked at the intoxicated Lin Mu. His palm rested on the back of Lin Mu’s head, gently stroking it.

So disobedient.

“You’re drunk. You can’t even stand properly,” came his voice, calm to the point of coldness.

Lin Mu let out a self-deprecating chuckle at that.

It seemed like he was the only one tangled up in everything, the only one stuck in the mire.

The person in front of him was always like this.

Calm, proud, and always knowing exactly what he was doing.

Unlike himself—timid, hesitant, selfish, and cowardly.

His expression was dazed, and his head leaned against the firm chest before him, using it for support to steady himself.

Fu Jingmo was about to speak when a defeated voice came from his chest.

“Fu Jingmo, I think I’m pretty lousy. I can never catch up to you, so you always keep me in the position of someone who needs protection.”

“Even when I asked you to treat me as a teammate… it was something I had to ask for…”

Lin Mu took a deep breath, pressing against Fu Jingmo’s arm to straighten himself as much as he could. After speaking, a pang of regret hit him—regret for those impulsive, venting words that bypassed his rationality.

Fu Jingmo remained upright, his posture unwavering, as steady as ever.

He lowered his head, gazing at the fragile and self-doubting figure before him. A strange, faint ache stirred in his chest, softening his voice slightly.

“You’ve done very well, Lin Mu.”

The youth lowered his head, gently shaking it. “You don’t have to comfort me.”

Fu Jingmo bent down, reaching out to grip Lin Mu’s chin, lifting it slightly so their eyes met.

His brow was sharp and well-defined, his eye sockets slightly deep-set, and his gaze impossibly dark.

In Fu Jingmo’s eyes, Lin Mu saw his own reflection—messy hair, pale complexion, and a hint of despair.

He wanted to turn his head away, unwilling to look at that version of himself, but Fu Jingmo’s hand remained steady and unyielding, leaving him no choice.

“This isn’t comfort. From the moment I met you until now, you are the most resilient person I’ve ever seen. Your progress is unparalleled.”

“W-What…” 

Lin Mu looked at him, slowly realizing that Fu Jingmo was earnestly responding to the venting, self-deprecating nonsense he had just said.

Those ink-black eyes held the intensity of a storm on the horizon, and Fu Jingmo’s tongue lightly pressed against his back teeth.

Gazing at the rare moment of vulnerability in the person before him, he reached out, gently stroking Lin Mu’s fair face.

With utmost patience, he spoke, word by word:

“Yes, I am protecting you. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I certainly don’t want you to die.”

“Because you are important. In my heart, you are very important.”

“It’s not about being teammates or partners.”

“Lin Mu.”

“I want to possess you.”

Possess you…

Possess…

The air seemed to be torn apart by those few words, letting something wild and uncontrollable rush in.

Lin Mu thought he must be drunk—drunk to the point of hallucinating.