Feudal Dregs - Chapter 42

Autumn settled over Beijing, but for Lan Yu, the days remained unchanged—spring, summer, autumn, or winter, they were all the same shade of gray.

He pulled down his trousers, exposing his deformed lower body to Old Master Li. The man, old enough to be his father, lunged forward to grope his female orifice before lowering his noble head to lick it. For some reason, it suddenly reminded Lan Yu of feeding stray dogs in the alley as a child.

His family had been poor, every coin earned through his mother selling her body. Lan Yu had never dared waste a single copper.

That was, until his mother died. One day, he saw a few emaciated strays on the street, listless and curled up on the ground. The bustling street was filled with hurried passersby, and few spared a glance for the starving dogs.

After watching for a moment, Lan Yu turned into a nearby bun shop and spent his last coppers on a few meat buns.

The buns were thin-skinned and generously stuffed, the minced meat inside juicy and fragrant. The dogs perked up at the scent, their dull eyes suddenly alight. Sitting on the roadside, Lan Yu broke the buns apart and tossed the pieces to them. In no time, the once-lifeless dogs were fixated on the food in his hands, drooling, barking incessantly, tails wagging wildly.

Grease from the buns smeared his fingers.

A thought struck Lan Yu—these men of the Li family were no different from those stray dogs. Except what they wanted to devour wasn't the meat buns in his hands, but him. They wanted to tear through his flesh and gnaw his bones.

The moment this idea took root, a twisted sense of pleasure surged in Lan Yu's heart, and a sickly smile curled his lips. Just then, he was abruptly penetrated—Old Master Li had grabbed his hips and thrust into him, demanding, "What are you laughing at?"

Lan Yu let out a soft moan, his shimmering eyes glancing at Old Master Li as he said, "I'm happy."

Old Master Li smiled and asked, "Why are you happy?"

Lan Yu leaned in and whispered by his ear, "You're being affectionate with me again."

His voice was melodious, faintly melancholic yet tinged with a pleased sob—enough to stroke any man's pride. Old Master Li reached out and pinched Lan Yu's earlobe, saying, "Silly boy, I'll always be affectionate with you from now on."

Lan Yu nodded obediently. "Mm."

Lan Yu had once again caught Old Master Li's favor, yet Li Mingzheng showed no reaction, remaining as indifferent as ever. If not for the occasional nights when Lan Yu returned to his room and found Li Mingzheng there, he might have thought their affair was nothing but a fleeting illusion, a ridiculous and wanton dream.

The two rarely spoke when together, mostly tangled in bed. Once finished, Li Mingzheng would sometimes stay to sleep, but more often than not, he would simply rise and leave, making it impossible to discern what was truly on his mind.

After Old Master Li's birthday, Li Yuqing spent less time at the residence. Whenever they crossed paths, Li Yuqing would sneer coldly and walk past without so much as a glance.

Given Li Yuqing's attitude, Lan Yu naturally offered no warmth in return, his aloofness often leaving Li Yuqing seething in silent frustration.

The room was lit by candlelight, the wick burning brightly, casting a soft glow over the curtained bed.

Faintly visible were two entwined figures, one slender leg draped over a broad shoulder, swaying with each forceful thrust. When the movements grew too rough, the leg slipped down, only to be caught mid-air by the man's firm grip before it could touch the bed.

Another storm of thrusts followed, the bed creaking with obscene sounds.

Before long, the storm subsided. In his dazed state, Lan Yu sensed Li Mingzheng getting up and murmured, "Leaving?"

Li Mingzheng paused but said nothing. He stepped off the bed, rummaged through his discarded clothes, and retrieved something before returning. Lan Yu felt his ankle enveloped in a scorching palm, something cold pressing against it. When he opened his eyes, he saw a silver anklet wrapped in red thread fastened around his ankle.

He lifted his foot slightly, and the anklet jingled softly—tiny bells were attached to it.

Li Mingzheng flicked one of the bells impassively and said, "Keep it on."

The delicate anklet, entwined with red thread, clasped around his pale, slender ankle, accentuating the graceful curve of his foot like unpolished jade—an unrefined yet undeniably erotic sight, perfect for cradling in one's palm.

Lan Yu gazed at the silver anklet, swaying his foot to make the bells chime.

Li Mingzheng seized that fair foot, his strong fingers stroking the arch as if caressing fine silk. When he gripped the sole, Lan Yu shivered and whispered, "Don't... it tickles..."

Li Mingzheng lifted his dark, oppressive eyes to meet his gaze, sending a tremor through Lan Yu's heart. He tried to pull his foot back, but Li Mingzheng tightened his grip on the ankle, his voice rough as he commanded, "Stay still."

Lan Yu struggled slightly, but Li Mingzheng only tightened his grip, causing the bells to sway incessantly, their crisp chimes turning obscenely lewd within the confines of the bed. Curling his toes, Lan Yu simply pressed his foot against Li Mingzheng's thigh and said, "If the young master enjoys playing with someone's feet so much, he should go find those bound 'three-inch golden lotuses.' What's the point of toying with a man's foot?"

Li Mingzheng wasn't angered. Instead, he pressed Lan Yu's foot against his own hardened arousal and replied, "What's there to appreciate about those artificially crippled feet?"

The thing was already fully erect—its head swollen, veins bulging along its formidable length. The moment his sole touched the man's sex, Lan Yu nearly jerked back. Yet when he looked at Li Mingzheng, the man's expression remained composed, as if he weren't engaged in such debauchery. Lan Yu retorted, "It's only because foot-binding has been abolished now. Twenty years earlier, which noble in the capital wouldn't have been obsessed with those tiny feet?"

His implication was clear, and Li Mingzheng understood. Pinching the delicate toes, he dragged his cock along the sensitive sole and commanded, "Serve me properly."

The sudden contact made Lan Yu gasp, his toes curling tightly. He shot Li Mingzheng a glare but didn't resist further, instead pressing his feet together around the thick shaft and muttering, "So damn demanding."

The sight of that monstrous member trapped between pale soles was visually striking. Watching it, Li Mingzheng's arousal swelled even thicker, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gripped Lan Yu's ankle and began thrusting between his feet. He treated them like another hole, smearing precum over every inch of skin until it grew slick. The lewdness of the act made Lan Yu's entire foot burn faintly, while the recently filled passage between his legs—still oozing a mix of fluids—clenched involuntarily. The silver anklet jingled with each movement, its chimes echoing in the stifling air, stirring restless desire.

A particularly rough thrust forced his feet apart, the tip now pressing against his toes. Startled, Lan Yu instinctively pushed back against the intimidating head. Li Mingzheng spread his toes and toyed with the adorned foot, then suddenly slapped the shaft against the instep, drawing a low moan from Lan Yu. His eyes glistened, already looking thoroughly debauched.

Lan Yu's fair skin flushed red from the treatment. Legs splayed, he let Li Mingzheng have his way, the bells on his ankles ringing like a siren's call, even unsettling the usually unshakable man. Yet this alone wasn't enough. Li Mingzheng's gaze drifted lower, to Lan Yu's exposed sex.

Sparse hair framed the smooth, flushed lips, the narrow slit still parted from earlier use, dripping with spent seed. A dark thrill surged through Li Mingzheng as he recalled his father kneeling between those very thighs, mouth pressed to that wanton hole. Swallowing hard, he pushed his fingers inside to scoop out the mess. Lan Yu clenched around them, breath hitching, the corners of his eyes damp and red as he whispered, "Come in..."

Li Mingzheng rubbed the swollen clit between his fingers, pressing down with such force that he nearly pushed it back into the fleshy folds, as if to hide the evidence of their illicit affair. Lan Yu trembled with a moan, his arousal dripping out along with the slickness that soaked Li Mingzheng's fingers.

Used to the fullness of a cock, two fingers could hardly satisfy him. Lan Yu weakly draped his legs over Li Mingzheng's shoulders, the bells on his ankles jingling as he hoarsely pleaded, "It's all leaking out... Young Master, won't you help plug it up?"

Sweat beaded on Li Mingzheng's back, a flicker of regret surfacing for having spilled so deep inside. The musky sweetness of Lan Yu's cunt clung to his senses, winding around him like an intoxicating haze, while the chime of the anklet he had fastened himself rang in his ears.

Each jingle of the bell sounded like a summoning charm for lost souls.

Li Mingzheng delivered a sharp slap to the plump flesh of Lan Yu's ass. "Slut."

The next moment, he buried his face between Lan Yu's thighs. Lan Yu's eyes flew wide in shock and disbelief, his body stiffening as he stared down—though he couldn't see clearly, he felt it all too vividly: the slow, deliberate lick against his entrance, as if tasting him, before teeth sank into the delicate folds.

He bit down hard, as though he truly meant to devour him. Lan Yu's heart pounded in terror, his mind still reeling from the realization that Li Mingzheng was eating him out.

From the moment they had met, Li Mingzheng had always been cold and composed, even in bed—rarely losing control, always restrained, untouchable.

Yet now, he knelt between Lan Yu's legs, feasting on him. A strange tension coiled in Lan Yu's chest, but the pain of those teeth sent a different kind of fear shuddering through him—the fear of being torn apart and consumed alive. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he tried to push himself up, only to whimper when the movement tugged at the flesh still caught between Li Mingzheng's teeth.

"...Li Mingzheng, don't bite—it hurts."

He kicked weakly at the man's back, the frantic jingling of the bells finally making Li Mingzheng relent. Slowly, he straightened, his expression unreadable as he gazed down at Lan Yu, the faint sheen of wetness glistening on the bridge of his nose.

Their eyes met, and Lan Yu's pulse fluttered nervously. "You can't leave marks... they'll notice," he whispered.

Ever since Old Master Li had sought him out again, Li Mingzheng had been careful not to leave any traces on Lan Yu's body, even during their trysts.

Li Mingzheng remained unmoved. "Spread your legs."

Lan Yu bit his lip, helpless. "Then don't bite—it hurts." He hesitantly parted his thighs, baring his cunt once more, and muttered in complaint, "Even your father never bit me like this."

"Li Mingzheng, you're only acting like this because you know I love you."

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