His tone carried a hint of laughter, but a palpable sense of dissatisfaction spread through the depths of his eyes.
"I didn't actively try to do this."
Su Cheng coughed dryly. "First of all, you did make me feel very pleasant. And since I am His favored one, whenever I am extremely happy, I seem to be able to 'see' Him. This isn't something I can control, which you should know, right?"
She paused for a moment. "And you surely know as well that He is an existence that is very hard to refuse. Who wouldn't feel..."
"Bewitched? Hopelessly entangled? Infatuated?"
He gave a cold snort, grasped her wrist, and bit down on the young woman's index finger.
"So this is all my fault? You greedy little thing—"
Su Cheng only felt a tingling numbness bloom from her finger bones all the way up her arm, making half of her body feel as if it were melting. The words she had originally wanted to say were swallowed back down.
"Your Highness..."
Su Cheng braced herself and said, "You can't blame me for not resisting Him, can you? Honestly, if I were that kind of person, I wouldn't be His favored one."
As she said this, she couldn't help but compare the powers of the two lesser gods.
The one before her could easily ignite primal senses—the trembling of skin, the screaming of nerve endings, the deep spasms of muscles.
Even just looking at him would surge a strong wave of desire.
All real, intense physical reactions.
Like a surging tide, crashing over, drowning, and even paralyzing the nerves, building a paradise of pleasure, and sublimating into an intoxication that made one lose the ability to think.
It was the exact opposite of everything the God of Joy bestowed.
That kind of pleasure was completely reversed, spreading from the ultimate enjoyment of the mind to the physical body.
Of course, upon careful consideration, the scope of the God of Joy's power was much broader; lust was merely one of its manifestations.
If it were those who cared nothing for worldly desires, His power still had many other ways to influence them.
"Yes—"
Lusha's tone became somewhat strange, though he didn't look particularly surprised. "But I'm a bit curious, how did you become His favored one?"
Su Cheng blinked. "You didn't know? Didn't you mention the three deities before? I thought you knew."
"I can feel His power radiating from you—"
The deity looked somewhat displeased. "But that doesn't mean I know what happened. I don't like looking into other people's memories."
Su Cheng didn't want the latter to happen either, so she gave a brief account, only skipping the detailed explanation of why Qin Jing came looking for her, because that would require telling a whole other story.
"...Anyway, it was an internal matter of their church. I was just an unlucky soul who got dragged into it. And that lunatic named Qin didn't give me any face just because I'm a divine favored one."
She thought for a moment. "Of course, in terms of raw strength, if he hadn't warned me at all and just ambushed me from behind, I probably would have been taken down before I even had time to use any power."
Lusha listened with great interest. When she said that last sentence, his gaze couldn't help but fall upon her face.
He noticed that the girl's expression was quite calm and open when talking about this matter.
"...After all, his age is probably several times mine. There's nothing I can do about that, right? Even if I had cultivated every single day since I was born, I still wouldn't be able to beat him."
Su Cheng noticed his gaze and couldn't help adding, "But he was probably apprehensive about something, so he directly pulled me into his domain. Then I figured out the rules of that thing, so I decided to gross him out a bit. Anyway, he is quite good-looking, and besides, none of it was real."
"Hahahahaha—"
The God of Lust laughed out loud after hearing this. "Then I can understand. He favors those who seek and enjoy pleasure. Every step of your process in breaking the domain pleased Him."
Su Cheng hesitated, swallowing her words.
She couldn't help but look at this deity who was entertained by her experience.
From this angle, his slender, graceful neck, jawbone, and chin formed an exquisite triangle.
His smooth, flawless skin swayed within the loose collar, leaving the better half of his well-defined chest exposed.
And there was the faint, lingering fragrance on his body.
It wasn't an overpowering, artificial scent, but rather like the sweet nectar oozing from the broken skin of a ripe fruit, mixed with a hint of earthy plant musk, tangling and seeping into the nasal cavity.
Then, as if it had a life of its own, it drilled into the flesh and bones along countless tiny blood vessels.
Su Cheng's body stiffened slightly. Her waist and abdominal muscles tightened, the tips of her toes began to tingle, and she subconsciously wanted to bring her knees together.
She needed to say something to distract herself.
Su Cheng coughed lightly. "What about you, Your Highness? What kind of person do you like, or what kind of actions would attract your attention?"
Lusha glanced at her, then suddenly raised his hand and pressed it against her left leg. His burning palm was wedged between her knees, dangerously pressing down on the edge of her skirt.
He lowered his head, gazing at the young woman before him. "Are you asking this because you want my attention, or because you want to avoid me?"
Su Cheng forced a smile. "If I wanted to avoid you, I wouldn't have come looking for you."
He raised an eyebrow slightly. "That's only because you need something from me. Otherwise, you'd definitely stay as far away as possible."
His long, pale fingers pressed against the hem of her skirt. His fingertips traced the folds of the fabric, caressing the orchids embroidered with silver threads on the silk, as the spilled wine permeated the petals.
The flower deformed under the pressure of the skirt's folds. The intricately patterned silk threads were soaked with wine, and the few pearls clustered at the stamen shimmered with moisture, trembling as he smoothed out the fabric.
Su Cheng: "Your Highness—"
Lusha tilted his head. "You actually really like people like Cessia too, don't you?"
The pads of his fingers rubbed against the edge of the embroidery on her skirt, his knuckles flexing over the creased silk threads.
His neatly trimmed, rounded nails, painted with a pale rose flower juice, flowed with a mother-of-pearl luster. They scraped across the blooming silver threads spreading over the skirt folds, making a subtle friction sound.
"...Whether it's appearance or personality, I can understand. For someone like you, the more unattainable the flower on the high peak, the more you want to pluck it—"
He lifted his hand slightly, then pressed down on a white pearl adorning the silk stamens of her skirt. The expensive treasure, transported from a distant island, sank into the smooth, damp fabric as a result.
And sprang back to its original place when he let go.
Su Cheng's breathing unconsciously quickened. "No, that's pure slander. And what do you mean by 'someone like me'—"
Her voice suddenly hitched.
The pearl embedded in the orchid pattern of her skirt was wet with fruit wine, and the liquid seeped out of the fabric under the pressure.
His middle finger remained pressed against it, gently drawing circles. A thin layer of moisture condensed on the pearl's surface, like frost melted by body heat.
The traces of wine suddenly blurred out, shimmering with an ambiguous luster in the candlelight. It spread along the silk threads of the skirt, soaking the petal patterns deeper and more vibrantly.
Su Cheng covered her face.
—On what grounds was he saying she liked the God of Purity!
How could he slander her like this!
She did think that horse was very good-looking, but that was a completely different matter.
Su Cheng wanted to refute him, but his hand was pressed right against her leg, and his scent was seeping into her flesh and blood through every pore.
She felt as though her body had turned into a furnace, and his touch, his scent, and all the sensory stimulation he brought had turned into firewood and fuel.
Continuing to ignite her.
"As long as it doesn't cross your bottom line, as long as there is no threat to your life, you are not someone with strong desires..."
He gently rubbed the lace patterns on the hem of her skirt, watching the embroidered silver threads begin to tremble as wet, slippery wine dripped down the round pearls.
"But once stimulated, once attacked by others, you have quite a strong reaction—"
From the overturned wine glass by the table, crystal-clear liquid fell drop by drop, wetting the man's long, bony fingers.
Su Cheng gasped for breath, "Your Highness..."
"Don't misunderstand, my dear, I quite like people like you."
He said lightly, "If we were to work together, it would certainly be a pleasure."
Su Cheng inhaled slightly, sweat sliding down the side of her face, "Then I'm afraid... it would require His Holiness the God of Darkness to actually think highly of me."
"Shall I go ask for you?"
"...Can you even ask that? Ask if I can become a god?"
"That might take a little more time," he smiled. "Besides, I wanted to say this last time, who gave you this curse on your body?"
"Thank you for not asking this in the Church's territory," Su Cheng sighed. "In that regard, you are very considerate, but I don't know. I even wondered if it came from you."
But the original novel had given the answer.
It wasn't.
"Of course not, I wouldn't do such a thing."
Lusha also immediately denied it, "And this thing on you, for humans, let alone getting rid of it, even influencing it is a very difficult task. Its state has changed now; it seems you found an expert, my dear."
Su Cheng: "..."
She had long suspected that Camus probably wasn't human either, so she wasn't surprised to hear this.
Su Cheng: "You haven't looked directly at that pattern, have you? What did you base that feeling on?"
He shook his head slightly, "Even if I am not proficient in this field, I know that the aura of an active curse is special. It's like a... creature parasitizing you? The simplest way to get rid of it is to reshape your physical body. Well, I do know many ways to do that. If you become my blessed one, I can teach you."
Su Cheng's forehead darkened with speechlessness. "This isn't something I can decide. And from all the previous situations, if you can't choose me, it's not because I'm unwilling, but because I truly lack the specific 'traits' you need."
The black-haired man narrowed his eyes and looked at her for a few seconds. "That's hard to say. Knowing oneself is a continuous process. Until before you die, do not arbitrarily define yourself. You might not lack it; you just might not have shown it yet."
Su Cheng couldn't help but want to retort, "For someone who was deified after death to say this, it's truly quite dramatic."
He froze for a moment, then actually nodded seriously: "It seems my words weren't rigorous enough. Indeed, after becoming a god, my cognition of myself is also constantly refreshing. How about we change it to 'before your soul is completely annihilated'?"
Su Cheng: "Pfft."
She suddenly felt that this person was quite interesting too.
Su Cheng thought for a moment, "Can I ask you about something?"
Lusha seemed to notice the change in her mood, the smile in his eyes deepening a bit, "Hmm?"
The girl didn't deliberately hide it; those amber eyes were shining, a mix of appreciation and interest surfacing.
However—
"The people of the Church say the God of Light is dealing with the threat of the Void," she asked with a face full of seriousness: "Do those words you said before represent the attitude of His Holiness the God of Darkness on this matter?"
Lusha: "..."
"My dear," the God of Filth and Lust spoke faintly, "do you really like bringing up others at a time like this?"
Su Cheng: "......I thought you wouldn't mind these things."
He remained noncommittal, one hand holding the young girl in his arms, the other reaching for the ice bucket on the coffee table.
Warm fingertips submerged into the half-melted ice. The tightly closed and wet ice cubes were parted from the middle, revealing the crystal bottle base flowing with cold liquid below.
He grasped the iron pick beside the bucket, pulling it out from its clasp. That section of metal was cold, hard, and heavy, with spiral patterns densely covering its thick, long surface.
The tip of the pick flashed with a cold light, looking sharp and sturdy, still dripping water beads after being wet by the ice water.
With a lift of his wrist, the ice pick tilted upward, and a drop of water fell onto the girl's loosely spread silk skirt.
Su Cheng's throat tightened.
The black-haired man let out a laugh, using the tip of the pick to touch the ice beneath the wine bottle, rubbing against it intermittently.
"Why don't we talk about—"
He spoke unhurriedly: "Do you prefer magic or battle aura?"
The ice block, condensed with fine frost patterns, was slowly cracking open, revealing its half-melted core.
The tip of the pick pressed against the edge, tapped gently, and quietly sank in a few fractions.
Su Cheng grabbed the lean, strong arm around her waist, "Your Highness!"
He smiled, his knuckles tightening as his force suddenly increased.
When the first crack fully bloomed, fine ice crystals splashed out, landing on her collarbone, so cold it made her give a slight shiver.
His movements didn't stop. The ice pick continued to chisel inward, the spiral patterns grinding against the inner wall of the ice. Every push, accompanied by a subtle twist, made the cracks spread deeper and further.
"Answer me."
The ice gradually softened, emitting a faint, almost whimpering sound of shattering under the continuous chiseling.
"......Magic, I suppose."
Countless ice shavings scattered everywhere, turning into tiny, almost transparent crystal flakes, looking like a rain of stars under the light.
For a moment, Su Cheng thought of this man's past.
—He used to be a musician, so he probably knew very well how to control the rhythm.
The ice pick sometimes went deep, chiseling open the most stubborn ice core, and sometimes gently hooked and picked, leaving only fine cracks on the surface, allowing the ice block to continue softening and disintegrating under his torment.
The layer of ice in the bucket let out soft, fragmented groans. The melted water drops slid down the body of the pick, soaking the gaps between his fingers.
They dripped onto her skin again, so cold they made her shudder, yet so hot they made her tremble.
Finally, he raised his hand.
The ice pick in his palm pierced precisely into the gap by the wine bottle.
The solid ice below completely collapsed, shattering into countless gleaming fragments, while the meltwater had long overflowed into a stream, washing over her ankles and wetting the edge of her skirt.
He let go of the ice pick, and the metal clattered to the ground.
The pierced ice melted into spring water.
