Chapter 9: You Still Have a Home in Jiangzhou?

Lin Yan had come to realize that Kaspar really did treat him like a child.

His pride as head of the household took a serious hit.

Lin Yan pouted and muttered under his breath, "Burnt food won't kill me. It's just not healthy."

Back when he used to hit up barbecue joints with friends, he'd even deliberately char the pork belly a little—came out crispy, packed with that rich, meaty flavor.

Kaspar: "..."

Kaspar had never been good with words, and now he was even more at a loss for how to respond.

He'd barely managed to talk himself into letting the male lord off the hook—and letting himself off too.

He just hoped Lin Yan wouldn't bring this up again and go courting death.

Kaspar stayed silent, his gaze fixed on Lin Yan, who had no idea what was going through his head—

Still muttering.

Without pause, chattering on and on, mourning that burnt shrimp, trying to convince him to pick it up and feed it to him.

Lin Yan's lips were a pale pink, the cupid's bow full, the lower lip lush, carrying a faint dewy sheen.

As he spoke, his lips opened and closed, and other insects couldn't help but entertain the thought of stuffing something into that mouth...

Kaspar had a sudden inspiration.

He peeled a fresh shrimp and, quick as a flash, stuffed it into the male lord's mouth.

The muttering stopped dead.

After the tender shrimp went down, Lin Yan picked up right where he'd left off: "Actually, my constitution's pretty solid. A little burnt food won't—"

And then.

Another shrimp went into Lin Yan's mouth.

Lin Yan: "?"

Lin Yan chewed, chewed, chewed.

Kaspar, enlightened, grew steadily more skilled at shutting the male lord up.

The moment Lin Yan made a sound—"I really like—"

The shrimp Kaspar had already peeled was in his mouth.

By the time Kaspar finished peeling an entire plate of shrimp, a mountain of shells had piled up on the table. Lin Yan's cheeks ached from exhaustion, and he had completely forgotten what the previous topic had been.

Lin Yan rubbed his sore cheeks and said with resentment, "Just to keep me from talking, you're really asking for death."

Kaspar had been tidying the shrimp shells.

Now, as if struck by a warning bell, his face went abruptly pale. He realized his actions had indeed crossed the line. He'd already decided to coexist with the male—how could he harbor illusions about the male's tolerance?

His approach had been utterly improper—he'd actually kept feeding the male shrimp nonstop, and the displeasure in the male's eyes had been about to overflow, yet he hadn't caught it...

He hadn't been this blind in his last life.

He shot to his feet, knees slamming into the ground with a crack: "Male Lord, calm your anger."

A fissure split the walnut-brown floorboards.

Just like Lin Yan's mood.

When he'd interacted with people in human society, saying things like this usually got him grinning, joking responses.

This was the first time—he'd told someone they were asking for death, and that person actually knelt down begging for forgiveness—

He'd thought the villain was willing to lend him money, feed him all these shrimp, take care of him like a child—he'd thought they'd reached a relationship where they could joke around with each other...

Lin Yan thought dejectedly: Turns out the villain still doesn't trust him deep down.

"Get up." Lin Yan felt somewhat helpless, once again gripping Kaspar's wrist. "I told you, you don't need to kneel."

But Kaspar wouldn't get up.

As a military female with a vast power gap between him and Lin Yan, if Kaspar insisted on not getting up, Lin Yan had no way to make him.

"No rules, no order." Kaspar knelt with his head bowed. "If the Male Lord doesn't punish me today and make me remember this lesson, who knows how much more out of line I'll be another day."

The leather whip, the chains, or the bone-cleaving knife in the punishment room.

He could endure them all.

Today was only a minor offense—not yet deserving of death.

If, under the male's repeated indulgence, he committed a grave error, then what awaited him and the egg—he felt a chill down to his bones just imagining it, the cold seeping into his marrow.

Lin Yan: "..."

Lin Yan was seeing someone beg for punishment for the first time.

The atmosphere turned strange and silent. Lin Yan had originally come to farm favorability with the villain, but he hadn't managed to cook, and now he'd made the villain kneel.

After all that running around, he felt like he'd farmed his favorability into the negatives.

Lin Yan probed tentatively: "Do I really have to punish you?"

"Please punish me."

In the silence where a pin drop could be heard, Lin Yan's brain went into overdrive—

Then, he turned and walked stiffly into the kitchen, same-hand-same-foot.

A minute later, the microwave went ding—, and Lin Yan came out carrying a glass of milk.

"Alright then." Lin Yan let out a long sigh and handed the milk to Kaspar. "Punishment: drink this whole glass of milk."

Bug-race milk had a fishy smell—pretty nasty.

He hadn't originally planned to bring out this super-fishy milk.

But pregnancy required extra protein anyway.

And from the looks of it, Kaspar hadn't eaten much at dinner. Giving him some milk to supplement protein—

Perfect.

The milk was fresh out of the microwave, steaming, the vapor clinging to Kaspar's thick, curled lashes, trembling slightly, "..."

The scalding heat of the milk traveled through the glass wall steadily to his fingertips.

But Kaspar only felt cold inside. He bent his lips with difficulty: "The milk is very hot, Male Lord. What did you add to it?"

His mind rapidly searched for prohibited drugs that could cause milk to heat up—every single one would make a female wish for death.

But this was the punishment he deserved.

This was the warning bell he'd rung for himself.

"Nothing added. Just heated it in the microwave." Lin Yan answered offhandedly, then caught on. "Oh, do you like adding other seasonings to it?"

Right.

With a smell that strong, you'd need something to mask it.

With that, Lin Yan went pat-pat-pat to the kitchen and came back with a whole row of porcelain bottles of seasonings, for him to choose from. "Add whatever you want."

Kaspar froze, looking at Lin Yan, his tone low and slow: "I showed you such disrespect, and you don't plan to punish me?"

"I am punishing you." Lin Yan said. "I just said it—drinking it is the punishment."

Lin Yan's confidence swelled at his own genius idea.

He declared: "I've decided. From now on, your punishment is always drinking milk."

Kaspar: "..."

Kaspar lifted the glass and took small, small sips, his fingertips rubbing ceaselessly against the glass wall.

Occasionally he'd glance up at Lin Yan, but said nothing.

He suspected—

The Male Lord had gone mad.

Only madness could explain the Male Lord's recent drastic change in behavior—first slitting his wrist to feed him pheromones, then personally cooking...

Kaspar's mind resumed functioning, his milk-drinking paused, and he didn't even notice the milky white clinging to the fuzz at the corner of his lips.

"Wipe the corner of your mouth." Lin Yan had been reminding him for ages, his hand holding the tissue getting tired, but Kaspar was still lost in his thoughts.

Lin Yan had no choice but to do it himself.

The two were only a step apart. Kaspar watched Lin Yan wipe his mouth, the male so focused, so considerate, as if he regarded him as some very important insect.

Kaspar's Adam's apple bobbed:

If that were really the case, all he could say was—mad in a good way.

He hoped the Male Lord would stay mad even longer.

Never get better.