Chapter 62: Are You Winning, Son?

Words : 1042 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

Chapter 62: Are You Winning, Son? "I’m back!" Zhao Chun waddled through the door, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead as he stretched his arms over his head. A light puff of exertion escaped his lips before he blinked—pausing mid-step. Something felt... off. Both Hei Long and Liu Yifei looked up at the same time and spoke in unison: "Welcome back." Zhao Chun tilted his head slowly. "...Yeah..." He sniffed the air. The scent in the room was strange—stale warmth, faintly musky. His nose wrinkled. For some reason, it reminded him of the martial arts hall after someone finished a very intense training session. And then he noticed something else. His girlfriend, Liu Yifei, was still lying on the table... but now she was lightly glistening with sweat. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her breathing shallow, and there was a slight flush to her cheeks. ’It looks like she went through an intense workout...’ Zhao Chun thought, squinting slightly. But he shrugged it off, returning to his corner chair with a huff: ’If she’s feeling better, then that’s all that matters.’ Hei Long calmly adjusted the sleeves of his robe and glanced over his shoulder. "We should be just about done," he said smoothly, voice as calm as ever. He cleared his throat, then added with a faint smile, "I hope I satisfied you... thoroughly." Liu Yifei let out a small, breathy sigh as she sat up from the table, her cheeks still tinged pink. "You were perfect," she replied in a quiet voice, eyes flickering toward Hei Long and then quickly away. Zhao Chun, meanwhile, beamed. His innocent, hopeful expression hadn’t changed at all: "I’m glad she’s feeling better now! You really are amazing, Brother Long!" Hei Long offered a modest smile and bowed his head lightly: "I do what I can." As Zhao Chun watched his girlfriend fix her robes and stand with renewed energy, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope rise in his chest: ’Maybe tonight... maybe tonight will be the night I finally get a kiss... or maybe even hold hands!’ The thought filled him with naive excitement. Meanwhile, Hei Long turned slightly, hiding the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips: ’Poor fat cuck...’ "If you’ll excuse us, Brother Long," Zhao Chun said with a respectful bow, cupping his hands as tradition dictated. Hei Long gave a simple nod, his expression unreadable. "Of course. Take care." As Zhao Chun turned to leave, Liu Yifei lingered a heartbeat longer. With her back mostly turned to her boyfriend, she glanced once over her shoulder—and, when Zhao Chun wasn’t looking, she puckered her lips and blew a soft kiss toward Hei Long. Hei Long didn’t respond with a wink or a smirk. Just a faint smile. Cool, controlled. Perfectly timed restraint. Then they were gone. . . . Outside, the late afternoon sun was dipping toward the horizon. Birds chirped in the distance, and disciples moved about the sect in steady waves. Zhao Chun walked alongside Liu Yifei with a bounce in his step, but his mind was preoccupied. He glanced at her several times before finally asking, in a rare moment of gentle sincerity: "Be honest with me. Is Brother Long really that good?" Zhao Chun wasn’t trying to pry. He just didn’t want her to lie to him because of Hei Long’s status. Liu Yifei visibly squirmed at the sound of Hei Long’s name. Her hands clutched at the edges of her sleeves. Her cheeks reddened slightly. "I swear on my Daoist heart," she said softly, almost dreamily: "He was amazing... really, really good..." Zhao Chun’s brows shot up. "Really?" he asked again, just to be sure. Liu Yifei nodded quickly, her eyes dipping to the ground. Zhao Chun blinked—and then suddenly threw back his head and burst into laughter. "Good, good!" he said between chuckles: "Then I should ask him to take care of you again in the future!" Liu Yifei’s head snapped toward him, surprised. "You... You’d do that for me?" She grabbed his sleeve tightly; her face full of sparkles and admiration. Zhao Chun turned beet red at the sudden contact. He nervously rubbed the underside of his nose with a finger and puffed his chest a little. "W-Why, of course!" he stammered: "I’m your boyfriend, after all!" Liu Yifei beamed up at him like he’d just gifted her a heavenly treasure. Zhao Chun grinned like a man who thought he was winning. And so, feeling confident—and maybe a little too optimistic—he thought it was finally the right moment to bring up something that had been on his mind. He scratched his cheek, cleared his throat, and leaned in a little. "So, about tonight..." he began, voice suddenly low and filled with a shaky kind of bravado: "I think it’s time I... take your virgi—" Zhao Chun didn’t get to finish... "HEY, YOU BASTARDS! GIVE ME BACK MY SPIRIT STONES!" A loud voice rang out like a thunderclap from down the road. Both Zhao Chun and Liu Yifei froze. "What was that?" Liu Yifei asked, voice going soft with unease. She turned toward the nearby alley, her eyes flicking nervously into the shadows. It was growing darker now, and the light of the setting sun no longer reached between the tall buildings of the sect. Zhao Chun instinctively stepped in front of her, puffing up like a protective bear. "Stay right here," he said firmly. "I’ll go check it out." Without waiting for her to object, Zhao Chun made his way toward the commotion, following the sound of rising voices. They were getting louder, overlapping now in chaotic shouts: "Your spirit stones? You stole them!" "Yeah! They belong to us!" "Our eldest brother’s an inner disciple. You better show some respect!" Turning the corner, Zhao Chun peeked around the edge of the alleyway and spotted the source of the chaos. A group of four young men were arguing fiercely—three of them standing together, blocking the way of a single figure, who stood with his arms crossed and a sharp glare on his face. Tension crackled in the air like firewood just before it snapped. Zhao Chun narrowed his eyes. ’What the heck is going on here...?’

Chapter 62: Are You Winning, Son?

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