After Sheng Jun Chapter 33 (Part 2)
Translated by Sylver (ko-fi)
Chapter 33 A Hall Full of Flower Intoxication (part 2)
One cup of wine followed another.
The wine's fragrance mingled with flower shadows, and flower shadows blended with moonlight.
Jiang Xingzhi leaned against the tree trunk. The alcohol gradually took effect, his mind slowing down. He didn't even notice when his outer robe slipped down as he raised and lowered his hand.
His hair slid along his neck into his open collar, revealing beautiful collarbones. With drooping eyelashes, he reached out for the nearly empty wine jar again.
A large palm wrapped around his cool wrist as Zhong Ming removed his hand. "Drunk? If you're drunk, stop drinking."
Jiang Xingzhi pursed his lips, looking at him with a sluggish gaze.
Zhong Ming: "..." Well, it seems he's quite drunk.
He reached out to gather Jiang Xingzhi's scattered clothes, his fingertips trembling slightly as they brushed against the reddened nape of his neck. It took great self-control to suppress those ideas of taking advantage of the situation.
But Jiang Xingzhi wouldn't let him; he struggled with his wrist and shifted his body, trying to reach past Zhong Ming for more wine.
Once one starts drinking, it's hard to stop.
Half of his body pressed against Zhong Ming's embrace, carrying the warmth of intoxication. Zhong Ming held his waist and, after restraining himself, said, "Jiang Xingzhi, stop it."
Jiang Xingzhi stared fixedly at the wine jar. The wine's fragrance seemed to entice him from the opening, luring him to take another sip.
He tilted his head from Zhong Ming's arm and argued, "You said it yourself, one drink to solve a thousand worries."
His voice, tainted with alcohol, was softer than his usual provocative tone. Jiang Xingzhi had no other intentions, but to Zhong Ming's ears, it sounded like he was being coquettish.
Zhong Ming couldn't bear him acting this way and tightened his hold around him. His mind was in chaos, and after a long moment, he could only repeat, "Stop it."
Jiang Xingzhi flailed, kicking at the tree trunk.
With a bang, tiny peach blossom petals from overhead came fluttering down, scattering all over them.
Half-embracing Jiang Xingzhi, Zhong Ming saw that among his ink-black hair, not only were the flower petals pink, but the tips of his ears were also pink.
Perhaps because his cheeks were so red, when Jiang Xingzhi looked up, his eyes appeared even clearer.
Zhong Ming's breath caught. Suddenly, he clenched his jaw and pulled the person into his embrace, avoiding looking at the face that shook his reason—this person was born to defeat him.
"Mmph!" The person in his arms let out a muffled grunt.
Zhong Ming's chest heaved as he rested his chin on the side of Jiang Xingzhi's head.
He had originally thought that as long as he stayed by Jiang Xingzhi's side, with enough time, he could eventually make Jiang Xingzhi turn his attention to him. But he hadn't expected that Jiang Xingzhi already had someone he liked, and he liked them desperately.
As if he wouldn't give anyone else even the slightest chance.
"You don't give me a chance, yet you're always giving me opportunities to take advantage..."
Zhong Ming pinched Jiang Xingzhi's soft earlobe and lowered his head, gritting his teeth, "Jiang Xingzhi, you're truly torturous."
After these words, the person in his arms suddenly went still.
The next moment, as if triggered by something, he abruptly raised his head from Zhong Ming's chest with a "thwack!" The movement was so violent that it hurt Zhong Ming's chin. "Hiss..."
But Jiang Xingzhi seemed unaware, focusing only on grabbing his collar. "What did you say?"
The emotion Zhong Ming had been brewing was completely broken by this. He rubbed his chin, "What?"
But Jiang Xingzhi didn't speak again.
In fact, his mind was now foggy and unclear, like a bowl of paste. But within this paste, that familiar phrase had tugged at his nerves again.
It made him recall a scene from the Great Sky Illusionary Realm—
Xu Jian caressed his face, leaning down, his tone restrained, "Jiang Xingzhi, you're truly torturous."
The alcohol, which spiritual power couldn't dispel, numbed his nerves. Jiang Xingzhi momentarily couldn't distinguish between reality and illusion. Even when facing the equally restrained gaze of the man before him, he couldn't tell if this was the person from his dream.
He raised his hands to cup Zhong Ming's handsome face, giving it a gentle squeeze. His wrist was quickly grabbed by a scorching palm.
"Jiang Xingzhi," Zhong Ming's voice was hoarse, "What new torture have you devised now?"
Jiang Xingzhi stared at that face, his brain seemingly ceasing to think, acting only on instinct as he spoke, "I want to see your sword dance."
Callused fingertips rubbed against the inside of his wrist. "So demanding."
Despite his words, Zhong Ming stood up and drew the Ancient Evil Sword, looking down at him deeply.
That's better, he should cool down a bit.
He slowly exhaled a turbid breath, swinging his hand. The sword's light was clear and cold under the moon.
......
Jiang Xingzhi sat leaning against the tree trunk, watching the black-robed man dancing with his sword under the moonlight.
Each move was both familiar and strange. The figure before his eyes sometimes overlapped with, sometimes separated from, the figure in his mind.
He waved his hand to grab the wine jar and tilted his head back to drink directly from it, his gaze never leaving Zhong Ming. The intoxicating peach blossom wine rolled down his throat, overflowing and running down his chin and neck, soaking his collar.
The sword wind stirred up tiny peach blossom petals, sending them flying with each move. Boom!
Entering Jiang Xingzhi's vision, they scattered and bloomed across the sky—
Three thousand guests intoxicated among flowers, one sword frost-cold across fourteen states.
His nose suddenly felt sour, and he gently closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling. Jiang Xingzhi felt he must be heavily drunk; the person he tried to forget with alcohol became even clearer in his mind.
The sword wind stopped, and footsteps approached him.
A hand brushed against the corner of his eye. "...Jiang Xingzhi."
This time the fingertips were dry.
Jiang Xingzhi hadn't cried, but his heart was painfully swollen. The overflowing emotions, fermented by alcohol, all spilled out.
He raised his hand to cover the calloused hand on his cheek and opened his eyes.
In his blurred vision, the person before him was backlit by the moon, his silhouette seemingly fitting perfectly into the one he held in his heart.
A deep voice asked him, "Who are you thinking of again, Jiang Xingzhi?"
The moon was high, the wind clear, the wine's color beguiling.
Jiang Xingzhi could no longer hold back. With half-lidded drunken eyes, he said, "A person."
He said, "I have a person in my heart."