The night was deep, and the moon threw a dappled, flickering light between the branches and leaves of the trees.

In the Western Depot.

The melodious cry gradually reduced.

Bedside, the two men were both sweating and gasping. One lay while the other sat.

Lu Qiange rested for a while, his cold eyes casting on Ming Lan.

A small whip came down, and the skin of his thin exposed chest had already turned a piece of bluish red. Tiny beads of blood oozed from all the overlapping whip marks.

However, while feeling the lacerating pain of the wound, the abnormal eunuch showed an expression of both pain and satisfaction on his pale and sweating face.

That extremely contradictory expression was noticed by Lu Qiange. At once, he felt his scalp tingling. Several layers of gooseflesh crept all over his body.

Ming Lan's red face was like being covered with the rouge. His beautiful, watery eyes looked straight at the handsome man at the head of the bed.

Lu Qiange was suddenly shocked, exclaiming.

"Really? You want more?"

Ming Lan chuckled. The blush on his cheeks even deepened, and the rhyme at the end of his voice was soft and tremulous. He pleaded with coquetry.

"My dear fellow... Could you, could you let me... let me go to the bathroom first?"

"Go to the bathroom?"

Lu Qiange raised his purple eyes, staring at Ming Lan's bright face sharply. He was making a mental calculation.

He was not fool, and he knew one thing.

Once your opponent was locked in the room, don't let him leave the room again!

Letting your opponent leave was like freeing the beast from the cage. The guards of the Western Depot were just on the porch. At this time, any negligence would be very foolish!

"My dear fellow, please, let me go to the bathroom. I cannot... stand any more. If you don't mind, come with me to the west chamber. I... I will never cause trouble. You, you take me to go..."

Ming Lan was really afflicted by the call of nature. His pointed face was a little twisted due to the stomach distention. Hot sweat appeared around his hair and temples.

"No way! Just bear it!"

Irritated, Lu Qiange whipped on Ming Lan's bottom severely.

"Ouch."

The combination of the pain of a broken bone and the whipping of the skin, together with the urgency of going to the bathroom like an arrow on the bow, made together for an even stranger and more comfortable feeling.

In an instant, Ming Lan trembled violently and stretched his neck, letting out a long moan.

Then a foul air shot out beneath him, dirtying the air around him.

"..."

Feeling nausea in his stomach, Lu Qiange jumped up a few meters away from the head of the bed.

Everyone knew that if the noise was so small that it could hardly be heard when one broke wind, the smell was sure to stink!

Ming Lan was just the case.

As no obvious gas came out in advance, the ensuing odor was foul enough to suffocate a room of flies and bedbugs.

Judging from this, the eunuch was not putting on airs.

Lu Qiange looked around and found a high-necked copper spittoon under the bed, so he stooped to put it in front of the bed.

The spittoon was very clean and its exterior was so smooth and shiny that it could have been a bronze mirror to reflect others.

Something unknown had been thrown into it and it even sent out a cool aroma of jasmine and peppermint.

Lu Qiange could not help but show some light laugh lines with his lips up. Then he raised his cold eyes and commanded Ming Lan in a low voice.

"Just do it here!"

Ming Lan kept shaking his head, saying in a panic.

"No. It is my spittoon. How, how can I use that?"

Pop-eyed, Lu Qiange looked at him sharply.

"Why not? You are so troublesome. If you irritate me, you will just relieve your bowels on the bed! "

Ming Lan pursed his lips reluctantly, taking back a mouthful of saliva as well as the other half of the unspoken sentence.

Just now, his fuss about going to the bathroom was half true.

Seeing his treasured jar held by Lu Qiange, he felt as if his lifeblood was pinched in the enemy's hand.

Ming Lan didn't dare to ask others to come in, so he tried to think about how to go out. As long as he left the room, he would get chances to call others.

The guards were just outside the room. Ming Lan didn't believe Lu Qiange really dared to swagger out of the room with his jar.

If he had gone out like this, he would have been exposed at once.

But Lu Qiange was also cunning, as if he had seen through his thoughts. He asked him to relieve his bowels on the spittoon rather than let him out.

Ming Lan had to try other methods.

Rolling his beautiful eyes, Ming Lan lay on the bed and supplicated.

"My dear fellow, can you unlock my acupoints? Let me leave the bed so that I can relieve the bowels on the... spittoon. "

A beam of light flashed from Lu Qiange's purple eyes. He nodded quickly this time.

"Okay!"

"I can't move."

Ming Lan smiled bitterly. The expression was kind of aggrieved.

The acupoints of his crotch was unlocked. He no longer felt heavy. He could control his body by himself again.

Ming Lan couldn't bend and put on the shoes. He could only touch the floor with his white stockings and moved to the spittoon little by little.

His expression turned twisted. He looked at Lu Qiange hesitantly.

"My dear fellow, can you stop staring at me like this? You know I can't sit on it..."

"Don't talk!"

Lu Qiange was impatient. Cold light flashed from his purple eyes.

His left hand, which held the knife, palmed and a white light went straight to the Ming Lan's bottom.

He suddenly felt the coolness in his waist. Looking down, he found the dark red brocaded trousers had fallen to his feet.

"Ah!"

Ming Lan screamed. He covered between his legs with his hands hurriedly, flustered.

Though he had always been dissipated, he had an indelible sense of shame for castration in the depths of his heart.

Ming Lan was unwilling to show that wound even to his closest people, let alone a complete stranger.

Lu Qiange rolled his eyes calmly. Then he waved the knife and looked straight at Ming Lan, shaking his head at the spittoon.

That meant to tell him to sit on it and stop wearing away his patience.

Ming Lan lowered his eyes a little, hiding the deep resentment in his eyes.

The way Lu Qiange used the knife showed that he had a good hand. Ming Lan's Kungfu was no match for him.

For his treasured jar, Ming Lan had to put up with him.

He slowly stooped, but as soon as Ming Lan touched the copper edge, his delicate skin was almost frozen by the peculiar coldness and rigidity of the metal.

His expression instantly became distorted. The uncomfortable feeling made him cry irresistibly.

"Ah!"

"Damn it. I am the rank-second official in the imperial court. How could I reduce the vulgarity of those inferior common people and use the spittoon to relieve the bowels!" Ming Lan thought.

At this moment, Ming Lan really missed his own bathroom in the mansion.

It was a lavishly decorated house.

There was a table made of fragrant sandalwood, and on it was a purple and gold stove with the three-legged toad model, whose open mouth was filled with the smoke of Heluo Incense all the year round.

Nearby, a bushy-sized mother-pearl tin was filled with dried dates for him to plug his nostril while he was in the pit and shut out the odoriferous air around him.

Then he was seated on the stool which was wrapped in colorful silk.

Under the stool was a wide oak bucket. Its surface was covered with red glaze inlaid with jade, and the inside of the bucket was soaked in aloes water.

In winter, the silk on the stool was changed into fox skin. Sitting on it, he would feel soft and comfortable and the skin didn't feel cold.

After finishing, the servants would also serve him with a white jade basin filled with bean water to clean his body.

Now, being forced to sit on a spittoon was a great insult to his initial luxurious life.

After unlocking Ming Lan's acupoints, Lu Qiange fixed eyes on him to keep alert.

Just now when Ming Lan shouted, he thought he was playing tricks.

In an instant, the knife had been on Ming Lan's neck.

Ming Lan was so afraid that a shock came from beneath him, and those things rushed into the spittoon with the momentum like an avalanche.

"Wow..."

Choked by the pungent smell, Lu Qiange frowned and stepped back.

Ming Lan's body stiffened as if he had fixed himself on the spittoon. His face was lithe, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

After a while, he screwed up his face and said.

"I have finished..."

"Really?"

Lu Qiange looked at Ming Lan coldly. He rushed to him suddenly and lifted him off the spittoon with one hand.

"I..."

Ming Lan's features were twisted. No sooner had he begun to speak than the knife approached his neck.

Ming Lan gave a shock belch and lowered his voice.

"I haven't cleaned myself."

"Lord Ming, you have been reduced at this point. Don't be so particular about it!"

Lu Qiange finished his words quizzically, kicking Ming Lan's bottom.

The severe pain in his tailbone almost let him die. Knees softened, he knelt down on the ground.

At this moment, extreme astonishment remained on his pale and bloodless face. His lips trembled and could not speak out anything.

Hardly had he cleaned his body did Lu Qiange kicked him. Through the robe, it was exactly that position...

He thought that his new robe had been stained with...

Ah.

Ming Lan's tortured heart gave out countless cries, and his spirit almost broke down.

He could not resist the discomfort of his senses. His eyes were wandering at Lu Qiange and he begged with a trembling voice.

"My dear fellow, I listen to everything you say. Now, could you give me back my jar?"

"Do you really want it?"

Lu Qiange suddenly frowned. Light was reflected from his purple eyes. A smile emerged from the lips, conveying unknown coldness.

He opened the cover of the porcelain jar in front of Ming Lan, letting the mouth down unexpectedly.

Dumbstruck, Ming Lan opened his mouth wide, yet unable to make any sound. His eyes stared to the limit, watched the thing in the jar into the spittoon with limbs convulsing.

Lu Qiang lifted the whip again, lashing at Ming Lan's trembling back.

"Ouch."

Ming Lan cried out suddenly. His twisted face was fraught with pain, but he seemed to enjoy it at the same time.

"Okay. If you want it, take it out with your own hands."

Cold light was emitted from Lu Qiange's eyes. He uttered indifferently, and whipped at Ming Lan's feet mercilessly.

"Ah! Oh! Don't!"

Ming Lan suffered abuse, but he was like a crazy spinning top. The more whipped he was, the more excited he would be.

He howled and shook his head. His face was red and sweaty, looking rather strange.

Outside, a guard felt unbearable and started to run towards the front residence.

Another guard rushed up to him and said.

"What are you doing? You and I are on standby tonight. Where are you going?"

He gasped and blushed, saying.

"No. I cannot bear anymore. I need to find somewhere to vent!"

"Hey! You..."

No sooner had the other guard finished his words than he saw his fellow running away in fidgets.

He was upset to return to the porch. The cadence of the voice kept coming to his ears, stirring his already uneasy heart.

The guard put his hands over his ears, but it was useless!

Walking back and forth for a few steps, he took a look at the door of the room and also ran away...