Transmigration:The Villain Wants A Happy End Without His BeastHusbands-Chapter 33: A Slippery Thing

"How do you feel?" Lan Meishan asked as Ningyan took a sip of the calming hot tea.

Warmth spread through his body almost instantly. Ningyan closed his eyes and let out an embarrassingly loud moan.

Meishan blinked.

Ningyan felt... better. He was dressed in fresh robes Meishan had provided, seated in a quieter chamber of the imperial library. One that looked lived-in.

Artifacts lined the shelves. A dining table sat near a neatly arranged bed, and behind it, a large circular window overlooked the cultivation space.

He lowered the cup and set it on the table. Meishan sat across from him, spectacles back in place, emerald serpent eyes fixed patiently on his face.

"Oh.. heh." Ningyan stretched his arms, working out the lingering stiffness. "I can’t really pinpoint it."

Meishan nodded slowly. "You may feel numb for now."

"Numb?" Ningyan echoed. "Yeah. That’s it."

"It took four days for the core-strength sharing," Meishan said evenly. "Your core is adjusting... quietly."

Ningyan’s eyes lit up. "So it’s activated? I can start cultivating?"

"Not—"

Meishan stopped mid-sentence.

The light in his eyes shifted, turning faintly sharp as he glanced toward the chamber entrance. His displeasure was subtle but unmistakable.

"I think we have visitors."

At the same moment, Ningyan felt it.

The spirit mate chain tugged violently at his neck, sharp and insistent.

That pull alone told him who it was.

"Oh." He blinked, unease settling in his chest.

Meishan rose smoothly to his feet. "I could send him away."

Ningyan stared at him. "I don’t think that’ll work."

Meishan grimaced. "So you want to leave? You need to recover and to do that, you should be with me."

Ningyan sighed.

Yan Wuhen wasn’t someone you reasoned with. Especially not after vanishing for four days. He could already imagine the fox prince’s fury.

"I’ll see him," Ningyan said, standing.

Meishan said nothing.

He turned and left the chamber. Ningyan followed, and soon they were back in the main library, tall shelves looming silently around them.

And there he was.

Yan Wuhen stood before them. The immaculate Vermillion Fox Prince. Crimson hair framed his sharp features, a single golden-and-green beaded earring glinting on one ear. His nine tails swayed behind him in slow, graceful arcs, each movement controlled.

His red-gold fox eyes narrowed into slits.

Ningyan’s heart skipped.

For a terrifying second, Wuhen looked moments away from grabbing him by the throat but then his gaze shifted.

"I didn’t know you were capable of taking what isn’t yours, Lan Meishan."

Ningyan realized then that Wuhen wasn’t looking at him.

He was looking at Meishan.

Lan Meishan calmly brought his hands together and bowed in greeting. Wuhen acknowledged it with a dismissive huff.

Meishan didn’t seem bothered. Though the displeasure in his eyes was unmistakable.

"He didn’t take me," Ningyan said quietly.

Wuhen’s gaze snapped to him.

"He was helping me with my core."

"I figured that out," Wuhen replied, irritation sharp beneath the restraint. "The question is why you didn’t tell me."

His eyes softened, just slightly. "You should have told me."

"I didn’t know it would take so long," Ningyan admitted, frowning.

Wuhen studied him, then exhaled slowly, clearly realizing Ningyan wasn’t evading the truth.

"Very well," he said. "Then let’s go home."

Home.

The word sent unexpected warmth through Ningyan’s chest.

"I have to recover," he said quickly. "And to do that, I have to stay with Lan Meishan."

Wuhen raised a brow. "I can help you recover."

"His core already contains my core strength." Meishan’s voice cut in, his voice low, controlled, unwavering.

"Introducing another spiritual energy now would destabilize it. Once he enters the second stage of cultivation, you may assist him as much as you like. But for now, only I can."

The words sent a faint shiver down Ningyan’s spine.

Wuhen stared at Meishan, surprised.

Then his lips curved slowly into a wide, teasing smile, sharp canines flashing.

"For all the years I’ve known you," Yan Wuhen drawled, clearly amused, "this is the longest speech I’ve ever heard you give. A slippery thing like you can speak this much? How pleasant."

Ningyan’s eyes widened.

Yan Wuhen, however, looked openly pleased.

Lan Meishan frowned. "I will not tolerate insults from you."

Wuhen pouted exaggeratedly. "But I’m not insulting you. I’m teasing."

Meishan’s face flushed faintly. He parted his lips, clearly searching for a retort and finding none.

His gaze shifted to Ningyan.

Ningyan gently patted Meishan’s arm before turning and fixing Wuhen with a stern look.

"Stop teasing him, Wuhen."

"Boring," Wuhen said lightly.

Then, without warning, he snatched Ningyan closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing their bodies together. He leaned in, inhaling deeply, clearly savoring Ningyan’s scent.

Ningyan sighed. He didn’t struggle. And, to his own surprise, found his fingers gripping Wuhen’s sleeve.

Wuhen lifted his head.

His red-gold eyes sharpened as they locked onto Lan Meishan.

Never breaking eye contact, Wuhen dipped his head and pressed a kiss to the side of Ningyan’s neck.

Ningyan gasped.

Wuhen followed it with a slow lick, drawing another startled sound as Ningyan buried his face against Wuhen’s chest.

"W–what are you doing?" he protested breathlessly.

Wuhen smirked, his eyes still fixed on Meishan. Whose emerald serpent eyes glowed faintly behind his spectacles, expression unreadable.

"So," Wuhen asked smoothly, "how long is the recovery going to take, Lan Meishan?"

"A month or so," Lan Meishan replied evenly. "I need at least two to four hours with him every day."

Yan Wuhen’s expression dulled. "That’s a long time."

"It’s enough," Meishan said simply.

Wuhen rolled his eyes and finally released Ningyan. Ningyan frowned faintly at the loss of contact.

"It’s just a few hours," he said.

"Exactly," Wuhen muttered.

"I spend more than that in lectures, Wuhen."

Wuhen turned his gaze back to Meishan, his impatience clear.

"Can you start the recovery later?"

Meishan parted his lips. "I.."

"Good. Great," Wuhen cut in briskly. "Let’s go, Yan’er."

He grabbed Ningyan’s arm and started pulling him away.

Ningyan groaned but still managed an apologetic smile and a small wave over his shoulder.

Lan Meishan returned it with a faint smile of his own, bowing his head slightly.

For some reason, Ningyan felt an ache in his chest. Meishan looked unbearably gentle standing there like that.

But Wuhen was already dragging him away, all the way back to the manor.

By the time they arrived, midnight had settled fully over the grounds, stars scattered across the sky, cold air brushing against Ningyan’s skin as the gates closed behind them.