The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

They are different, children born of love and sex respectively, how could they be the same?

"Qingjun, what do you think of Jiang Shuo?"

They were having a nice chat, so why did they bring up Jiang Shuo again? Qingjun was puzzled. After thinking for a while, she could only recall the whispers between the two brothers that day. Did they really want to compete for her affections?

"Jiang Shuo is great. He's handsome, strong, and generous..."

As she spoke, Qingjun dared not say any more. With each word she uttered, Jiang Zhiyang's face darkened further.

"That's right. Jiang Shuo is robust, but I'm thin because I don't like fish, just like my mother. But my father forced me to eat fish every day. My stomach was ruined when I was a child, and it's never been able to recover no matter how old I get."

The river was ablaze with lights, dazzling and captivating, but when they met Jiang Zhiyang's eyes, they transformed into glistening tears.

"Jiang Shuo is generous because no matter what he does, he always has Aunt Dong and Old Jiang backing him up. But me, I only have faintly aching scars on my back. I am lazy and undisciplined in a retaliatory manner, and I am also guilty for failing my parents' expectations. That's how twisted, insecure, sensitive, and petty I am!"

"Why do you praise Jiang Shuo to the heavens while trampling yourself into the mud!" Her heart was touched. Qingjun always felt more pity for Jiang Zhiyang than for others, but at this moment, she was inexplicably angry.

She shook off Jiang Zhiyang's hand, trying her best to calm herself down. "Everyone is different. You're great too. Why say those self-pitying things?"

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I just want to tell you, Qingjun, children born from love and children born from sex are different. I was born lacking the ability to love, and I will never be as physically strong and generous as Jiang Shuo..."

He lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes fluttering gently, and a few water droplets slid down his cheeks. His pitiful expression made Qingjun lose her composure.

Love? Liking? Are they really that important to Jiang Zhiyang, or to people, or to all living beings? Qingjun had a headache; her thoughts were a jumbled mess.

"Don't Aunt Dong and Old Jiang treat you well?"

"Aunt Dong and Old Jiang, of course they treat me well, but that kind of goodness is different from how they treat Jiang Shuo," Jiang Zhiyang raised his eyes and met Qing Jun's eyes, staring straight at her, as if trying to find something in her pupils. "I am jealous of Jiang Shuo. I don't need pity. I want love that is taken for granted and unique."

Pity? Doesn't he need it? But is Qingjun's affection for him the pity a god shows to a mortal? What he wants is something unique...

"This is for you, a return gift, and also a birthday present." Qingjun took out a wristband from her bag, and then gently adjusted Jiang Zhiyang's cuffs, tightly wrapping all the deep and shallow wounds under the wristband. "This is one of a kind."

Qingjun looked up to see his reaction, but Jiang Zhiyang paid no attention to the wrist guards and stared intently into her eyes.

Their eyes were so clear that one could easily see through their thoughts with just a glance. When they looked at each other, it was as if their hearts were touching. They were too close, far too close...

But the person in front of him was still not satisfied with the distance. Jiang Zhiyang took one step forward, then two steps forward, and his large hand tightly grasped the loosened hand. He then separated her fingers one by one and intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Such precious love, Qingjun, would you give it to me?" He leaned down, his nose almost touching Qingjun's cheek, his tone almost pleading, yet also like a command.

"May I?"

Is it okay? What does that mean? A breeze blew in her face, and Qingjun's ears turned red, her eyes stung, and she felt like she was about to cry.

Jiang Zhiyang kept getting closer. In an instant, Qingjun remembered that dream again. The crying child suddenly opened his mouth and bit her skin. Jiang Zhiyang was that crying child. Would he bite people too?

Qingjun trembled in fright and took only a small step back, but Jiang Zhiyang caught up quickly and kissed Qingjun's lips.

It turns out I didn't mean to bite her, but the feeling I have now isn't exactly pleasant.

Their lips touched, sending a soft, cool sensation through them. But soon, the moist warmth between their lips dispelled the chill of the night. With their eyes closed, they could still feel the warmth of each other's breath.

Her breath suddenly stopped the moment they got close. Her entire body could only be supplied with the little air left in her chest cavity, which was far from enough. At this moment, her heart was like a frightened rabbit, accelerating uncontrollably and racing around in her body. Her blood was boiling all over. Her face was burning red, like a ripe persimmon on a tree.

"Wait...wait...I can't breathe..."

Jiang Zhiyang finally stepped back, but gripped his hand even tighter. He spoke, his words filled with leaping joy, "Then open your mouth and take a breath."

She was lying. Before Qingjun could catch her breath, Jiang Zhiyang leaned in, his cunning tongue probing into her soft mouth.

His tongue rubbed between Qingjun's teeth, then rolled over the side of her tongue, probing deeply into her uvula, ruthlessly depriving the last bit of air from the secret space, before quickly retreating to the other side.

Qingjun couldn't react in time and felt her body go limp. She was forced to extend her left hand and grab Jiang Zhiyang's arm tightly to maintain her balance.

With her eyes closed, she could hear Jiang Zhiyang's passionate breathing, and without realizing it, she followed his rhythm and caught up with his speed.

The fox was right, to do as one pleases, to be free and unrestrained… For now, let her do as she pleases. She cleared her mind, letting her thoughts wander. The night sky, reddened by the lights of the mortal world, rose with brilliant sparks, exploding into colorful beams of light at its highest point, and then, in the lingering echo of the deafening roar, leaving behind a blank space…

When she opened her eyes again, all she saw were blurry figures, but in just a second, Qingjun saw Jiang Shuo coming with the crowd.

She looked away, quickly separating herself from Jiang Zhiyang, and gestured to him in an extremely faint voice, "Jiang Shuo, Jiang Shuo is here."

"Pretend you can't see him, okay?" Jiang Zhiyang's eyes darkened, and tears welled up in his eyes. "Please."

His gentle voice concealed a spell that made it impossible for anyone to refuse. Qingjun let him run wild, simply closing her eyes and silently condoning everything.

Jiang Zhiyang didn't kiss him again, but instead pressed his warm lips to Qingjun's slightly cool brow, then turned his arm and pulled the person in front of him into his embrace.

How should I put it? What should I say? The story of "protesting too much" needs no further explanation. Separated by a wall of people, they brushed past each other from a distance.

This time, it was the first time Jiang Zhiyang had defeated Jiang Shuo. The prize was not winning a girl's affection, but rather the first time he had bravely spoken up and asked someone for love. And what he wanted was exactly what that person was willing to give.

Jiang Zhiyang was very happy.

He lowered his eyes and stroked the wristband that Qingjun had personally put on him again and again with his gaze. It was good; he no longer had to grieve in secret.

Because someone told him that what flowed in his veins was not his father's sins, but his own blood.