Sacrificial Lamb (6)
Almost the moment he spoke, Chen Li’s trembling body froze. His hands gripped tightly at the front of his chest, clutching the fabric of his clothing. His pale neck was arched upward, as if offering himself as a sacrifice. He just stared blankly at the “god” emerging from the shrine without blinking.
Fu Moyang wanted to tenderly brush away the redness at the corner of Chen Li’s eyes caused by fear, but he restrained himself. Instead, he asked softly: “Did I scare you?”
Watching Chen Li dress himself in the wedding clothes, an intense satisfaction mixed with a twisted possessiveness rose deep within Fu Moyang’s heart. A voice screamed inside him, urging him to imprison Chen Li forever like this.
A sacrificed lamb should always stay by his side.
Even someone as powerful as him felt unbearably uneasy in this moment.
The last thing he wanted was for the little lamb to fear him because of his identity.
The lamb’s dependent gaze was addictive, he wanted to bask in it for a lifetime.
But the little lamb was so afraid of ghosts—how could he not be terrified once he knew Fu Moyang’s true nature?
Fu Moyang clenched his fists tightly. He felt like a condemned sinner facing judgment, with Chen Li no longer a sacrifice but the judge who could damn him to hell with a single word. He longed for forgiveness, for salvation.
Yet, at the same time, dark, possessive thoughts twisted inside him—he wanted to drag Chen Li into his own world, no matter how much the lamb feared and struggled, to bind him forever until death.
Chen Li remained silent, blinking rapidly twice but still staring fixedly at him, as if he might vanish at any moment.
All the dark thoughts within Fu Moyang’s heart dissolved in those moist, vulnerable eyes. He carried Chen Li deeper into the shrine but was reluctant to let him go. Softly, he coaxed: “What’s wrong? Did someone bully you?”
When the word “bully” was mentioned, his expression darkened slightly, hiding a murderous intent. It was as if, with just a nod from Chen Li, he wouldn’t be able to hold back from violently descending the mountain and slaughtering the entire town.
As his emotions fluctuated, the wind outside howled fiercely, and a few rumbles of thunder roared like angry beasts.
Chen Li and he locked eyes, and suddenly, without warning, Chen Li reached out and grabbed Fu Moyang’s face. Even so, it didn’t damage his handsome features, but it forcibly wiped away that hint of wickedness.
Even the raging wind outside fell silent in that instant.
The paper figurines who had sneaked in behind them happened to witness this scene. Startled by Chen Li’s audacious action, they screamed in panic before all falling flat on the ground, pretending to be dead.
Chen Li pinched his face to confirm, then let go. The look of grievance on his face became unbearable, and he suddenly threw himself onto Fu Moyang’s chest, fiercely demanding: “W-why did you only come now?”
He had imagined many possibilities, but none had prepared him for this reaction. Fu Moyang’s hands moved faster than his mind and smoothed Chen Li’s hair.
Realizing his chest felt damp, Fu Moyang’s heart twisted painfully.
All the tangled emotions and confusion inside Chen Li were replaced by the sudden surge of tenderness pressing against his chest.
Fu Moyang, almost helpless and flustered, stroked his back, saying: “I’ve always been here. Don’t be afraid.”
Chen Li rubbed against his chest: “I thought you weren’t coming.”
Although he tried hard to sound fierce, the tearful tone at the end betrayed him.
Even Chen Li himself didn’t realize what he was saying. He just felt very wronged. With a fierce yet somewhat guilty expression, he wiped his tears on Fu Moyang’s collar, trying to erase all evidence.
Then his chin was lifted, and he was met with a sea of shimmering silver-grey eyes.
Those sparkling, mesmerizing eyes drew closer and closer. Chen Li’s limbs stiffened, and his animal instincts screamed to run, but instead of fleeing, he foolishly closed his eyes.
First, his lips were tentatively licked. When it was clear he didn’t resist, the kiss deepened and entered without restraint.
It was the first time they kissed while both were fully conscious, but their skill levels were worlds apart.
Chen Li whimpered softly, his fingers curling up in embarrassment, yet he didn’t pull away. When he struggled for air, Fu Moyang would release him briefly before continuing the kiss. The sounds of wet smacks made anyone blush.
Time passed without Chen Li knowing how long. When his tears were roughly kissed away, Fu Moyang finally released him, breathing a little heavily as he whispered in his ear: “Do you know what this means?”
Chen Li blinked, his face as red as a ripe peach: “Yes, I do.”
His voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible, but to Fu Moyang’s ears, it was clearer than any response ever could be.
This was his offering, his judge, responding to his most shameful desire.
There would never be a wine more intoxicating than this, no scenery more breathtaking, and no treasure that could rival the brilliance of this moment.
Fu Moyang leaned closer, his voice low and steady, pressing into Chen Li’s ear as he asked again, patiently: “Do you understand what this means?”
His hands, gripping Chen Li’s, strained veins from holding back, wanting to knead him into his very bones, into his blood and flesh.
The suppressed dark desires flared up uncontrollably once more.
What does this mean—
It means the little lamb agrees to offer himself as a sacrifice.
He is the world’s most perfect offering. The greedy ghost would never let him go again, becoming his sharpest weapon and, at the same time, his strongest prison. Marking this innocent little lamb—who bleats foolishly after stepping into the beast’s lair—with the ghost’s brand, leaving the deepest imprint on his soul.
From now on, no one can separate them—not even life or death.
He is the ghost’s prey.
Chen Li suddenly laughed. His eyes curved and the corners of his mouth lifted into a bright, carefree smile. “I know,” he said. “It means we’re starting to date.”
Fu Moyang’s breath caught. The twisted, corrupted look in his silvery-grey eyes melted into something entirely different at that smile. As if he couldn’t quite process it, he repeated the word: “Date?”
It felt like an electric current ran through his whole body.
When that word came from Chen Li’s mouth, it seemed to carry some special kind of sweetness—so sweet it was almost cloying.
Chen Li’s eyes widened like he’d just made a discovery: “Your ears are red!”
Fu Moyang’s tone abruptly turned calm: “You’re seeing things.”
Chen Li tilted his head: “Now your face is red too… oh, and your neck.”
Unable to hide how he felt, Fu Moyang simply lowered his head and kissed him fiercely—though the actual kiss was far gentler than it looked.
When they pulled apart, both of their faces were flushed.
With his fair skin, Chen Li looked especially soft and pink all over. He muttered under his breath: “You’re bullying me.”
“Mhm.” Fu Moyang didn’t deny it. He gently bit Chen Li’s hand. “But it’s too late for you to run now.”
Chen Li gave a soft “Oh,” and thought a little awkwardly, Not that I wanted to run anyway.
His mood lightened again, as if a caged little bird in his chest had finally been set free.
So this is what it felt like to like Fu Moyang.
Chen Li couldn’t help swinging his feet happily.
There wasn’t even a hint of fear in his heart—only excitement.
Just like the first time he had that strange dream: he’d woken up scared and shaken, but deep down, he couldn’t deny the curiosity he felt toward that eerie world.
Maybe, he thought, I’m just crazy.
A coward who’s drawn to horror.
As he swung his legs, a piece of forgotten fabric slipped off and fell to the ground. Chen Li stopped, his cheerful movement halted as he looked at the red wedding veil lying there.
“…”
“…”
The unpleasant memory of being offered up like a sacrifice came flooding back.
The slow-on-the-uptake boy finally realized something was wrong. He narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute—why are you the god in this shrine?”
So who’s the NPC and who’s the player here?!
Why is his identity so much cooler than him?!
Chen Li was indignant, and System 001’s words began to echo in his mind.
The real sacrifice in this instance should have been the player, but somehow it had become him. If he had doubts before, seeing Fu Moyang now made everything crystal clear.
It was definitely his doing!
The spoiled and bratty little lamb lifted his foot to kick him: “Confess and be treated leniently. Resist and be punished harshly!”
The paper figures, who had just barely recovered from the terrifying threat of death, accidentally witnessed this scene again and were so frightened that they crashed into each other and fell to the ground.
What a—what a bold human! So terrifying!
But Chen Li had forgotten something important.
He had been dragged here in his sleep, so he wasn’t wearing shoes. The red cloth that had turned into a wedding robe obviously hadn’t turned into shoes either.
So when the man grabbed his foot, the calloused hand rubbed against the soft sole, instantly making his round toes blush pink, and faintly revealing beautiful bluish-purple veins on his tense arch.
Chen Li trembled slightly and tried to pull his foot back: “Let go of me.”
Fu Moyang spoke slowly: “Weren’t you curious about who I am?”
“I don’t know where I came from or how I was born. I was already in a soul state when I gained consciousness—what you humans commonly call… a ghost.”
“I’ve drifted through the world. Some have called me the origin of all ghosts. But strangely enough, aside from me, there are no other ghosts in the world. Meaning the world you live in—has no supernatural elements.”
As he spoke, he casually circled Chen Li’s ankle with his hand, not letting him escape.
Chen Li was so flustered he couldn’t think straight. A few fragmented words flashed through his dizzy mind, and he barely managed to make sense of what was being said.
“Ghost,” “origin of all ghosts,” “supernatural.”
He awkwardly reached out his hand and gave him a light push: “Y-Yes, there are… there are supernatural occurrences.”
Fu Moyang lowered his eyelids slightly: “Hmm?”
He hadn’t expected that Chen Li’s first reaction upon learning his new boyfriend wasn’t human wouldn’t be fear, but that his focus would drift off to something else entirely.
Mistaking his silence for disbelief, Chen Li ignored his poor foot’s predicament and earnestly said: “I’ve experienced them often.”
Fu Moyang found his serious and adorable expression oddly endearing—like coaxing a clueless little child: “Can you tell me about one?”
Chen Li: “When I was sixteen, I kept having the same dream. It didn’t even feel like a dream—it was too vivid and surreal.”
That was indeed odd. Humans don’t usually have the exact same dream repeatedly.
Fu Moyang raised an eyebrow: “What dream?”
“A wedding dream,” Chen Li said, lifting his hand. “I was wearing wedding robes kind of like this one! But… it’s still a little different from the dream…”
Before he could finish, he was suddenly cut off.
The once lazy and contented ghost’s expression turned cold and stormy, his voice icy as he asked:
“Who were you marrying?”
Author’s note:
Raise your hand if you’re looking forward to the wedding night! 💍✨