Transmigration:The Villain Wants A Happy End Without His BeastHusbands-Chapter 63: Beg Me

Ningyan raised a brow, lips parting in confusion rather than surprise. "So?"

Mingze stared at him. "So? That’s your question?"

Ningyan scoffed, disbelief flickering across his face. "Wasn’t I alone even when Father was alive?" His voice stayed calm, too calm. "He was alive when you defiled me. Alive when you lot whipped and tortured me. He was always alive and I was always alone. Whether he is dead or breathing changes nothing."

The moment the words left his mouth, Mingze’s hand snapped around his throat.

"You insect," he snarled, tightening his grip. "You have no rights and no protection now that he’s dead. Mother has taken over all affairs, and the council follows her every word until I finish my studies at the Celestial Beast Academy." His eyes gleamed with malice. "Which means I can kill you or defile you, whenever I please."

Ningyan gritted his teeth as air was crushed from his lungs. Still, he smiled.

"You are inconsistent with your words, brother," he rasped. "And disgusting. I am under Yan Wuhen’s protection. If you touch me, you’ll answer for it."

Mingze’s expression flickered just for a second. Then his grip tightened further. "Let him try."

He shoved Ningyan away.

Ningyan coughed sharply, bending slightly as he rubbed his throat. Mingze watched him with open contempt. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"How did you repair your core?" he demanded.

Ningyan paused. Slowly, he lifted his head.

"Why?" he asked softly. "Are you unhappy for me?"

Mingze scoffed.

Ningyan tilted his head, studying him with genuine curiosity. "Is that why you brought me out here? To tell me Father is dead and all my ’rights’ are gone?" A small smile curved his lips. "If that’s all, then you wasted your time. Like I said, Father being alive or dead doesn’t change what I am to you."

Mingze frowned deeply. "You talk too much now. You fight back. And it infuriates me."

Disgust coiled in Ningyan’s stomach.

"If that is all," he said coolly, stepping past him, "I’ll be taking my leave."

He barely took one step before Mingze grabbed his wrist, stopping him cold.

Ningyan’s eyes widened at the suddenness. He wrenched his hand away instinctively but before he could retreat, Mingze seized him, dragging him forward and slamming him hard against the wall. Stone bit into his back as Mingze pinned him there, wrists trapped at his sides.

"Why don’t you beg?" Mingze murmured, fiery serpent eyes dilating as he leaned closer. "Why don’t you beg and gain something from this?"

Ningyan struggled, rage flashing through him.

"As Mother has taken over as clan leader," Mingze continued smoothly, "she wants your head. You’re the only phoenix among us now, after all. Beasts are already whispering, seeing you as the rightful leader." His lips curled. "She hates your existence."

Ningyan’s breath shook with disbelief.

"But I," Mingze went on softly, "can help you."

White-gold light ignited in Ningyan’s eyes.

"Why would I beg you?" he snapped.

He shoved Mingze hard in the chest.

For a split second, Mingze actually staggered back. Quick, genuine surprise flickered across his face.

Ningyan straightened, chest rising as his aura flared before he reined it in.

"I am trying to help you, brother," Mingze said, recovering quickly. "You are in grave danger. And I am the only one who can save you."

Ningyan froze. His eyes widened, mind catching up to the implications far too slowly.

"When did Father die?" he asked.

Mingze stood upright, adjusting his sleeves. "Five days ago."

"That long?" Ningyan whispered, more to himself than to Mingze. His gaze drifted, thoughts snapping into place one by one. Then his eyes sharpened.

"It was Madam Qin Lihua who tried to kill me during the Dance of Dragons."

Mingze’s eyes widened. Then slowly narrowed.

"It’s a pity you didn’t die that night," he whispered, smiling broadly now. He stepped closer. "Mother sent one of our most skilled assassins, you see. He’s silent. Unknown. Impossible to detect."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur.

"You are going to die, Ningyan. And you won’t even know when." His eyes gleamed. "Though I am impressed you survived that night."

Ningyan didn’t flinch. He frowned deeply, disgust etched into every line of his expression.

"You can escape all of this," Mingze coaxed. "If you beg. If you kneel to me. You won’t have to fear every step you take. Even with your core repaired, death will still find you." His smile sharpened.

"Not even Yan Wuhen can save you."

Kill him.

The thought roared through Ningyan’s mind, loud, relentless, drowning out everything else.

Just kill him. End it.

His muscles tensed.

And just as he began to move, a low, velvet-smooth voice cut through the air.

"What is going on here?"

The voice was powerful enough to force both Ningyan and Mingze to look up at once.

Rong Yue stood there in silver robes, his presence calm yet oppressive. Golden hair caught the light as it spilled over his shoulders, his feline ears twitching faintly.

His blue feline eyes narrowed. Like a predator that had already marked its prey and was simply deciding how to kill it.

That pressure was directed entirely at Mingze.

"Your Highness," Mingze said quickly, bowing deeply, all arrogance wiped clean.

Ningyan followed, his bow noticeably stiffer. "Your Highness."

"Are the first-year students finished with their lessons for today?" Rong Yue asked calmly.

"Uh..." Mingze hesitated. "Not yet."

That was enough.

Ningyan had no interest in staying.

He turned and walked back into the Lotus Hall, grabbing his notes and flute in one smooth motion. The surrounding students stared openly now. Rong Chao among them.

"Ningyan?" Rong Chao asked softly. "What’s wrong?"

Ningyan didn’t answer. He left the hall. Left the training grounds. Left the cluster of first-years entirely.

His feet carried him toward the stone bridge without conscious thought.

He sat on the cold concrete railing, legs swinging over the edge, the wind repeatedly flipping his open books. His fingers idly turned the flute over and over as he stared down at the clear lake below.

His reflection stared back.

He wasn’t as afraid of water anymore. Not after all those recovery sessions with Lan Meishan but his chest still felt tight.

Just when he thought he had climbed out of one pit, another opened beneath his feet.

Maybe I should jump, he thought numbly. End it myself before an arrow finds my head.

He raised the flute to his lips. A soft, pleasant tone flowed out. The same melody he used when cultivating.

He lowered it briefly, humming under his breath, then lifted it again. His eyes closed as his spiritual energy answered his call. White-gold light unfurled around him, twisting and coiling like silk caught in a slow wind.

Then, another presence.

Ningyan stopped instantly and turned his head.

Rong Yue stood nearby, silver robes untouched by the wind, looking as if he had always been there. A charming, faintly arrogant smile curved his lips as he tilted his head slightly.

"Why did you stop?"