Chapter 49: Mulled Wine
This winter was exceptionally cold. The pale sunlight streamed through the window onto the balcony, carrying the weary hues of dusk as it slowly dipped below the horizon, offering no warmth, like a harsh spotlight on a stage.
The world, too, seemed like a bizarre stage set, spinning rapidly. Xiang Er’s memories of the afternoon were hazy and fragmented, only a faint sensation on her earlobe, followed by a kaleidoscope of colors.
Like the old, bulky television from her childhood, the screen filled with static snow, or meaningless patterns of overlapping colors, when the station went off air in the late afternoon.
But the kiss on her earlobe had been real. Xiang Er shuddered, she remembered being kissed, but she didn’t remember biting anyone, had she been unconscious when she bit Shen Yuhe?
“Um… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kiss you. I’ll help you treat it, and… I’ll do whatever you want to compensate you.”
Xiang Er’s throat was dry, and she took a large gulp of wine. The warm liquid, smooth and fruity, flowed down her throat, calming her nerves, allowing her to finally think clearly.
Shen Yuhe swirled her wine, her gaze fixed on Xiang Er, deep and unfathomable as the starry sky.
But Xiang Er’s mind wandered. She felt like something was changing.
Logically, after sending Akhe away, her life should have returned to normal, to peace and quiet. But in reality, every day was more chaotic and unpredictable than the last, her own state of mind increasingly precarious, now even forgetting what had happened just hours ago.
Her boss was acting like that, she might lose her job, her life was a mess, her memory faulty.
And that giant black spider was still lurking in her bed, the thought exhausting.
She longed for a peaceful, happy life, for a taste of romantic bliss, but she seemed… unable to control anything.
She was like a leaf adrift on the water, tossed by the waves, battered by the rain, drifting aimlessly, unsure what to do.
Only… Shen Yuhe was her anchor. The source of happiness in her life.
She looked at Shen Yuhe, unaware of the trust and dependence in her eyes.
Shen Yuhe’s fingers tightened around her wine glass, her fingerprints blurring against the glass and the red wine, her gaze meeting Xiang Er’s, and she chuckled softly.
“It’s alright… don’t worry about it, I won’t hold it against you. But I have a small request.”
Her voice, like a honey-soaked sponge, was smooth and persuasive, utterly captivating.
“What is it?”
Xiang Er instinctively leaned forward, her attention focused on Shen Yuhe.
“I haven’t decided yet. But you have to promise me first, then I’ll tell you what it is.”
Shen Yuhe’s hand rested against her lips, her nails, now painted a stark black, accentuating the unnatural paleness of her skin, an unhealthy, almost ghostly pallor.
“Okay.”
Xiang Er readily agreed. Could Shen Yuhe possibly harm her? And besides, it was just a promise, what she actually did would depend on the situation.
Xiang Er, still slightly worried, added:
“Then… about me biting you, are we good? You’re not mad at me, are you?”
Shen Yuhe smiled:
“Of course not, why would I be mad at you…”
She took a sip of wine and said with a sigh:
“I didn’t realize you were so… strong, it really hurt.”
Xiang Er, embarrassed, took another large gulp of wine. The cinnamon flavor was strong, a bit overwhelming, but it quickly warmed her, a perfect drink for winter.
She changed the subject:
“I didn’t know you could make mulled wine, and it’s quite good.”
Shen Yuhe smiled again, sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed, the long, smooth lines of her thighs and calves on full display, her toes, in those adorable slippers, dangling playfully.
Her wine glass swayed gently.
Xiang Er felt her own heart swaying with it, unable to settle. She suddenly wanted to ask some questions, like…
But Shen Yuhe spoke first:
“I don’t like mulled wine, because when I was abroad, I always spent Christmas alone, drinking mulled wine by myself, it’s the taste of loneliness. But it’s different now, now I have you with me, and I feel…”
She paused, her gaze locking onto Xiang Er’s as she leaned closer.
Her voice, as she spoke, was thick with the scent of wine, like a heady fragrance of fermented flowers, filling Xiang Er’s nostrils.
She stared into Xiang Er’s eyes, her own deep, dark eyes reflecting Xiang Er’s surprised face, her wine-stained lips parting and closing, like a secret incantation:
“I feel… sweet, as sweet as you… I’ve tasted you, you’re truly sweet… can I have another taste?”
The intense scent filled Xiang Er’s senses, her mind hazy, her emotions soaring.
She felt like an onion, the layers of reason and caution peeling away, revealing the vibrant, passionate core within.
She gasped for air, her wine glass trembling in her hand, a childlike joy bubbling up within her, the warmth of the wine spreading through her body, filling her heart and stomach, making her feel light, as if she could fly, her insides light and airy!
She could barely hear what Shen Yuhe was saying, but she tried her best to understand.
What had Shen Yuhe said? Sweet… yes, it was sweet, could she have another taste? A taste of what? Her wine?
Xiang Er smiled, unaware of her own intoxication, only knowing that she had never felt this carefree before.
She offered her swaying wine glass to Shen Yuhe, her voice slightly higher than usual:
“If you want a taste, have a taste!”
Shen Yuhe’s eyes lit up, a fire suddenly igniting within them, spreading rapidly, illuminating her entire face!
But… she suddenly pulled back slightly.
She reached out and took Xiang Er’s wine glass, her voice slightly louder:
“Are you still sober?”
Xiang Er giggled, not even noticing that her glass had been taken, shaking her head, making incoherent noises:
“Beep boop beep boop… blah blah blah… heeheehee, you’re so beautiful, heeheehee…”
She was quite drunk.
Xiang Er’s hand grabbed Shen Yuhe’s arm, her weight leaning against it, her fingers finding the bite marks. Her laughter stopped abruptly, her brow furrowing, and she mumbled:
“Mm… I did that, I’m a bad person, I’m a bad person! I should hit, hit myself!”
She raised her other hand and slapped herself across the face. Shen Yuhe quickly caught her hand.
Shen Yuhe’s expression darkened:
“No.”
Xiang Er, her hand held captive, didn’t resist, just stared blankly for a moment, then looked at Shen Yuhe’s face and smiled sweetly:
“Haha… wuwuwu…”
Her laughter turned into tears, genuine, heartfelt tears streaming down her face, her hands flailing, as if trying to push something away.
Shen Yuhe held both of her hands, her brow furrowed. She didn’t know how to deal with a drunk human.
Xiang Er sobbed, her tears falling onto the sofa, onto herself, and onto Shen Yuhe’s thigh. As the warm tears landed on her skin, a small, red sucker sprouted on Shen Yuhe’s thigh, absorbing the tears.
They tasted bitter.
Xiang Er’s life was truly… bitter. A drunk person could only cry, unable to articulate their grievances.
True bitterness couldn’t be expressed in words, only tasted in tears.
But Shen Yuhe could feel it.
Shen Yuhe pulled Xiang Er into an embrace, gently patting her back, and as she patted, her hand transformed into a soft tentacle, completely enveloping Xiang Er’s back, like a mother holding her child.
The grotesque tentacle, however, held the girl’s slender body with a gentle, protective embrace.
Thick tentacles spread across the sofa, absorbing the girl’s tears.
He savored every drop, not wasting a single one, feeling her emotions, experiencing her pain, absorbing every fragment of her soul.
Xiang Er gradually stopped crying, comforted by the soft, warm, elastic embrace of the tentacles, like sleeping on the most comfortable bed. She had never slept on such a comfortable bed in her life, and she quickly drifted off to sleep.
Seeing the girl’s eyes close, Shen Yuhe’s expression returned to its usual impassivity.
She retracted the extra tentacles and lifted Xiang Er into her arms.
She tried holding her like a human would. Xiang Er’s head on her shoulder, one hand supporting her hips, the other her back, a close, face-to-face embrace.
She held the sleeping Xiang Er like this, carrying her back to her room.
The football-sized eyeball on the bed watched Shen Yuhe enter, its demeanor perfectly docile, its thin tentacles helpfully pulling back the covers. When Shen Yuhe placed Xiang Er on the bed, it quickly covered her with the quilt, expertly tucking it under her chin, even patting it with a tentacle.
Shen Yuhe glanced at the large eyeball and sat down on the edge of the bed.
She opened her mouth, a long, thin, blood-red tentacle extending, slowly reaching towards the sleeping Xiang Er.
Xiang Er slept soundly, her breathing even and slightly heavy, her brow still furrowed.
The thin, blood-red tentacle, after a moment of hesitation, touched Xiang Er’s temple.
Night had fallen, the darkness flowing in through the window like a black river, filling the small, dark, and cramped room.
The beautiful, tall woman sat upright on the bed, her face expressionless, her mouth wide open, unnaturally so, her jaw seemingly dislocated.
From her gaping, blood-red mouth, a thin tentacle extended, glistening, its cold, slimy surface touching the unsuspecting girl’s forehead, gently pulsing and swaying.
The large, black eyeball beside her also climbed onto the bed, extending its black tentacles, reaching beneath the covers, joining the pulsing tentacle, at just the right moment, wrapping, tightening, even penetrating the girl’s body…
It was sharing Its senses, creating an unparalleled, magical, and yet real, erotic dream.
Just for her… her downfall.
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