Chapter 181 – Was that old monster really that good at kissing?

Translator: ChuRen/ YuQiChen

“What are you doing here?”

The man’s voice was like a cold steel needle, sending a shiver through Tang Qing’s body.

He turned around and saw Sephiroth suddenly appear behind him.

The man stood partly in shadow, his skin as white as the moon. His gaunt face seemed sculpted by a master carver from the dark.

Tang Qing noticed his expression was sullen, and his deep phoenix-shaped eyes were faintly red.

He looked somewhat terrifying.

Sephiroth firmly gripped Tang Qing’s hand.

“I… I’m looking for someone…” Tang Qing’s slender wrist was painfully caught, and he couldn’t pull away.

“Who?” The man’s hand was unusually icy cold.

A monster as ancient as Sephiroth, who had lived for over a thousand years, should not concern himself with such trivial matters, and revealing his identity wouldn’t matter.

So Tang Qing opened his mouth and explained, “My younger sister stayed in the castle for a while. She met a boy here and has been worried about his safety, so she asked me to find out what happened to him.”

The man said nothing, only staring at Tang Qing with his blood-red eyes.

Feeling nervous, Tang Qing looked at the two characters on the tombstone and asked, “Your Highness, the person my sister wants to find is named Julian, the same as on this tombstone. Do you know him…?”

Before he could finish, the man interrupted expressionlessly:

“Julian died long ago.”

He died in the great palace fire a thousand years ago.

Tang Qing’s eyes suddenly widened, and tears welled up.

Before he could digest the news, Sephiroth leaned close to Tang Qing’s neck and sniffed carefully:

“An Eastern boy…”

Tang Qing’s blood carried the same unique fragrance Sephiroth recalled last time.

He hadn’t been interested in anyone’s blood for many years.

Startled, Tang Qing stepped back a few paces and said softly, “Your Highness, I’ll be going now.”

He turned to run back but was suddenly pinned against a tree trunk by a strong force.

A cold hand wrapped around his slender waist, pressing his back firmly against the rough bark. The man’s breath brushed against his cheek as he leaned in close.

Sephiroth’s right hand forcefully clasped Tang Qing’s hands above his head, while his left arm coiled tightly around his waist, firmly restraining him in his embrace.

Then, a chilling kiss suddenly landed.

Sharp teeth occasionally grazed Tang Qing’s lips and tongue, bringing a faint sting. The soft flesh inside his mouth was sucked forcefully, and the man’s icy tongue thoroughly invaded every corner of his mouth. Soon, the corner of Tang Qing’s lips was broken.

Sephiroth seemed even more excited, sucking on Tang Qing’s fresh blood and saliva, their lips and tongues entwined as saliva filled each other’s mouths.

This primal, beastly kiss made Tang Qing feel as if he was about to be devoured.

He struggled fiercely but was tightly held by Sephiroth’s powerful arms.

His heartbeat pounded like a drum, and as his air grew thin, he finally couldn’t bear it and forcefully stomped on Sephiroth’s foot.

Only then did the man release his lips.

“Your Highness…”

Tang Qing gasped frantically, unable to comprehend what was happening.

The man only stared at his reddened lips and slender, delicate neck, his face still calm and unmoved.

“Your Highness, I’m going back to work now.”

Tang Qing said, not daring to look up at Sephiroth even once, and hurriedly ran away.

He reached the main hall, still shaken. Leaning against the wall, he wiped the corner of his mouth.

That man always liked to suddenly kiss him without warning, biting as if he wanted to eat him—so fierce that one might think he intended to devour him.

Well, considering the man’s vampire identity, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

And he didn’t know what kind of magic the man’s kisses possessed; every time after kissing, he felt strangely different.

Was that old monster really that good at kissing?

“Slave, what are you hiding here for?” an on-duty vampire passed by and spoke rudely.

Tang Qing looked up and saw the vampire who had suddenly appeared.

The man was tall, thin, and pale, with skin as white as if never touched by sunlight—lifeless in colour.

He was the same vampire Tang Qing had seen before.

When he had disguised himself as a maid and came out of the dungeon, he had collided with this tall, thin vampire who had even tried to attack him.

“I… I just came back from outside,” Tang Qing said nervously, lowering his head, unwilling to meet his gaze.

He remembered that time; if Julian hadn’t appeared just then, this vampire would have sucked his blood.

“Are you new here?” The vampire looked Tang Qing up and down, frowning in thought. “Why do you look somewhat familiar?”

“Yes, I am new. I’m Lord Sephiroth’s blood slave,” Tang Qing quickly said, fearing the man might try something, and so mentioned Sephiroth’s name first.

Sure enough, the man unwillingly withdrew his gaze, no longer showing that predatory look.

“A slave, huh? Go clean the storage room,” he said, pointing toward a room that looked messy and chaotic, ordering Tang Qing.

Tang Qing didn’t want to get tangled with him again, so he took the cleaning tools and entered.

The storage room was a mess, piled high with nearly abandoned items. There were old furniture, vintage clothes, forgotten utensils, and ancient decorations—everything imaginable. The floor was layered with all sorts of ornaments, leaving only a narrow path.

Tang Qing even spotted some very old antiques—a delicate ancient porcelain vase lurking in the corner, its pattern only faintly visible. Covered in moisture and dust, it still clearly indicated it was valuable.

Tsk, surely these were Countess Bathory’s collections, tossed here by Sephiroth to gather dust.

What a waste.

Tang Qing took a cloth and began wiping each item.

The room was airtight, and after a long time cleaning, sweat soon drenched the ends of his hair and trickled down his neck, soaking the fabric of his clothes dark.

He rubbed his waist, feeling soreness and pain.

“Tang Qing, what are you doing here?” Butler Liszt stood at the door and asked coldly.

“Butler, earlier, someone sent a task to clean the utensils here,” Tang Qing explained, pointing to a vase in his hand.

Butler Liszt glanced at the storage room. As Lord Sephiroth’s blood slave, this wasn’t actually Tang Qing’s job.

However, seeing that Tang Qing’s behaviour was suspicious and that he was merely a human—not a vampire—and probably wouldn’t last long anyway, he didn’t care much.

“Lord Sephiroth is already in the bedchamber. Go serve him there first,” Butler Liszt instructed.

“All right.”

Tang Qing bent down to gather his things and left the storage room.

Finally, he could leave that dreadful place.

He walked to the bedchamber, where the tall man was already waiting.

Sephiroth sat on a leather sofa, flipping through an ancient book. The flowing calligraphy on the pages shimmered under candlelight, which cast a faint halo over his sculpted, icy features.

“Where have you been?” The man’s noble nose twitched slightly, then he looked up at Tang Qing with a hint of disdain.

How could the little blood slave start smelling bad after just one day?

“Your Highness, I was wiping utensils in the storage room,” Tang Qing said, embarrassed, brushing away the damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead. He suspected he might have picked up the damp smell from the storage room.

“Liszt.”

Sephiroth called sharply for the butler.

Liszt was a bit surprised and glanced at Tang Qing.

He was just an ordinary human; Liszt couldn’t imagine Sephiroth bothering with such trivial matters.

The youth stood obediently, his complexion fair, round, apricot-shaped eyes dark and moist. Sweat made his clothes cling tightly to his slender waist and long legs.

He was fairly good-looking, but no matter how pretty, he was just a boy—lacking the voluptuous allure of a woman, far less the seductive charm of Countess Bathory.

Lord Sephiroth, who had even rejected the countess’s self-recommended company, would never favour such a young male servant.

Thinking this, Liszt felt somewhat reassured.

“Lord Sephiroth, this afternoon, when Tang Qing was resting in the main hall, Charles asked him to clean the storage room,” Liszt nervously looked at the floor and explained.

“I see,” Sephiroth nodded calmly.

Liszt finally breathed a sigh of relief, his back drenched in sweat.

He hadn’t been mistaken—there was no way Lord Sephiroth would care about an ordinary human male servant. Besides, it was just an afternoon of cleaning the storage room. A poor human boy from the countryside would have much tougher work every day.

“I thought assigning work was the butler’s job?”

Sephiroth suddenly looked up and glanced down at Liszt. His emerald-green eyes stared coldly at him.

Liszt shivered in fright and hurriedly knelt down. “Apologies, my lord. Charles acted without permission. I will teach him a lesson immediately and expel him from Castle Csejte.”

Sephiroth withdrew his gaze and said nothing, casually flipping through the ancient book in his hands.

Liszt felt suffocated. Although Sephiroth appeared expressionless, he knew his answer was unsatisfactory.

He sincerely apologised, “My lord, this was my mismanagement, allowing Tang Qing to perform tasks beyond his duties. I will never let him do such dirty and exhausting work again.”

Sephiroth nodded but remained silent.

Liszt understood Lord Sephiroth was displeased.

He hung his head low, kneeling quietly, afraid to beg for mercy.

He knew this was Sephiroth’s punishment.

Tang Qing looked at the kneeling butler and the cold-faced man on the throne and dared not speak.

Having stood in the storage room for a long time at noon, Tang Qing now felt some soreness in his waist and swayed slightly.

“Liszt, leave now,” the man said lightly.

“Thank you, my lord, for your forgiveness. I will not err again,” Liszt, drenched in cold sweat, finally exited the bedchamber.

Only then did Sephiroth seriously glance at Tang Qing, his tone tinged with disdain:

“You’re really stupid.”

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