A Cruel Romance CH 9

Lan Bai-Shan came back.

He had taken the liberty to act on his own terms, and pledged dependence to Chao Chen-Sheng. Commander Ho’s intended target had been Fu Yang-Shan.

Commander Ho didn’t comment. It made little difference who they pledged dependence to, for it was nothing more than an instrument to acquire a t.i.tle.

Under Chao, the Anguo Army was renamed the Twenty-Third Army. Commander Ho didn’t know how the number twenty-three came to be, and had no interest in finding out. He only found Lan rather bold to have the nerve to act out on his own.

The regimental commanders under his command were promoted to divisional commanders. This too was only a change in t.i.tle. Li s.h.i.+h-Yao’s division had over forty thousand men, which didn’t fall under the proper size of a division. Neither was Sun Shu-Shan’s division, which only had about three thousand men.

Lan had his reasons for choosing Chao. Unlike Fu and his affectations, Chao was relatively more generous and had agreed to pay them. The money went straight into Lan’s pockets, allowing him, once more, some contact with a bit of wealth and power—at last!

He wasn’t concerned that Commander Ho would denounce him for overstepping his authority. Commander Ho loved him, and he knew it.

This bit of love acted as his protection charm. He had no confidence in his ability to retain this love indefinitely, so while it still lasted, he must act to secure his future and ready his plans.

The colonels who’d become major-generals didn’t care much for the ident.i.ty of their administrator. The truth was, n.o.body could really administer them anyway. Upon hearing that they would be funded for no particular reason, they expressed their delight by demanding celebration and merrymaking. Commander Ho smiled tepidly, and gave them neither attention nor interference. Lan’s daring self-a.s.sertion had made him extremely uncomfortable.

Salary was not to be distributed gratuitously, and pocketing another man’s money meant labouring and dying for said man. Even so, since n.o.body was a fool, Li s.h.i.+h-Yao and the like didn’t mind sending their troops off to war. It didn’t matter whether they were victorious or not, the point was to follow the example of locusts—swarm across the lands and leave not even a blade of gra.s.s behind.

It was for this reason that war had become a profitable job. This time, Li failed to nick the job from Jin Hwan-Ran, and was forced to guard Luyang and protect Commander Ho. Did a lone ghost of a man like Commander Ho need the protection of more than ten thousand men? As he reflected upon Jin’s ent.i.tlement to roam to his heart’s content, Li became more irritated than ever. With each pa.s.sing day, he raised his head up high and sighed: “That brat’s making yet another fortune!”

On the tenth day of Li’s torment, Chao issued another order which declared a shortage of men on the battlefront, along with instructions for the Twenty-Third Army to send out a few more regiments. Li couldn’t stay put any longer this time, so after rounding up a few comrades who were eager for victory and blind with greed, he set out with his troops at once.

Commander Ho sat at home and took little notice of the events outside. He was well aware of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hold back such beasts of prey at the moment, so he simply avoided being a garrulous nuisance. The years were long. If they could manage to stay alive, everything could take their time. Besides, he had his own problem weighing on his mind—his illness!

To term it an illness wasn’t entirely accurate. It should have been called an “unmentionable condition,” one that would never see the light of day and could only be endured in private. This would have been an entirely different matter were he actually an old man, but he was only twenty-two and still quite young. Even setting his recent problems aside, wouldn’t he have to fulfil his ancestral duties eventually?

He sent Wen Nine a list of medicines that he’d put together himself—without any medical insight. A month later, Wen Nine delivered the medicines along with a gramophone. Calmly and silently, Commander Ho stored the foreign medicines in a cabinet, and took his doses diligently. He’d even managed to get a hold of some imported hormone shots, but because he didn’t know how to administer an injection, he hadn’t yet put them to use.

He continued taking his medication for a few days. Before he started feeling any of its effects, Lan left for Hsian again.

Leave then, thought Commander Ho. He knew Lan was reckless with greed, and now that he had Chao, he was no longer Lan’s sole support. Besides, even if Lan were available, he wouldn’t be able to do anything beyond chatting and bantering.

Curing himself was the crucial task.

If one medicine showed no progress, he’d switch to another.

Hsiao-Hu noticed that Commander Ho was throwing out a large number of empty pill boxes. He couldn’t read much, so he brought the boxes to Adjutant Li, who then went through them and remained equally clueless.

Bold as he was, Hsiao-Hu decided to simply ask Commander Ho himself.

It was late in the afternoon. Hsiao-Hu carried a basin of warm water into the bedroom and said with a grin. “Commander, it’s time for your footbath.”

Commander Ho was sitting at his desk, fiddling with his record player. A disc spun leisurely inside while the speaker exhaled a thin, trembling melody. Hsiao-Hu had never found the music pleasant, but he was interested in its source. Commander Ho had explained it’s mechanics to him once, and he had listened closely, yet he was still completely unable to comprehend any of it.

To the last beat of the melody, Commander Ho opened a new bottle of medicine with some effort. He dropped a small pill into his mouth—and not finding any water, he grabbed a bottle of wine off his desk and pulled out the cork, gulping down a mouthful of its content.

Hsiao-Wu watched behind him, and asked with interest: “Commander, are you sick? Why are you taking medicine all the time?”

“It’s nothing. They’re just nutrition pills,” Commander Ho said absent-mindedly.

Hsiao-Hu took it for the truth. He crouched down and tested the water with his hand. “Come over here, Commander, the water’s almost going cold.”

Commander Ho walked over to his bed. Just as his backside touched the sheets, the lights in the room went out. The gramophone, too, fell mute.

In Luyang, blackouts occurred on a regular basis while electricity was something of a rarity. Hsiao-Hu stood up and lit a few candles, then hunkered back down. As per usual, he removed Commander Ho’s socks and placed his feet in the basin.

Hsiao-Hu’s interest in Commander Ho’s feet had persevered through time. He messaged the Commander’s feet with lively enthusiasm, and while he was right at it, Commander Ho jerked his foot away with a sharp intake of breath.

“Did you just tickle me?”

Hsiao Hu looked up and grinned. “Wasn’t on purpose.”

Commander Ho inserted his foot back into the water and leaned back. He propped himself up on his arms as he lay facing the ceiling, deep in thought.

He remained so for some five minutes, until he felt a sudden and unexpected spark of arousal creep up on him. Hsiao-Hu’s t.i.tillating hands sent the sensation up through the soles of his feet, and his entire body p.r.i.c.kled for a second with something almost like an electric shock. He swayed as his arms grew weak, and collapsed on his back.

Caught off guard by Commander Ho’s sudden fall, Hsiao-Hu looked up and was about to speak, except the first thing that entered his vision was Commander Ho’s exposed crotch. Commander Ho was wearing a pair of unlined silk trousers. The soft fabric flowed around his body like water, fully betraying the shape of his erection.

Hsiao-Hu had never seen the Commander in such a state. He froze in shock, his head buzzing while all the blood in him rushed up and boiled on his face.

He stood up, wiping his wet hands on his trousers. “Com—Commander?” he probed in a small voice.

Commander Ho raised a hand. He said nothing but sighed heavily, sounding almost as if he might cry.

What is this, some f.u.c.king aphrodisiac? He thought to himself as he held on to his sheets, clenching his teeth. But where the h.e.l.l am I going to get some relief?

Commander Ho groaned despite himself, fully aware of how he must have looked. He wanted to get rid of Hsiao-Hu so he could relieve his infuriating member in private, but before he had a chance to say a word, he felt a sudden tightening around his erection. Looking down, he saw that Hsiao-Hu had wrapped his hand through the fabric of his trousers and around his c.o.c.k.

“Not you...” he panted. “Get out of here...”

Hsiao-Hu remained silent, his eyes wide and completely engrossed in stroking Commander Ho. Through the fine silk, he could feel, acutely, the heat and hardness of the Commander’s erection. He’d had no experience pleasuring others, but being a teenaged boy himself, Hsiao-Hu knew what he had to do.

As if possessed by demons, he ignored Commander Ho’s mumbling refusals. Taking a seat on the bed, he pulled down the Commander Ho’s trousers gently and took a full grasp of the Commander’ engorged c.o.c.k.

Outraged, Commander Ho struggled in an attempt to sit up and knock Hsiao-Hu’s hand away. But before he had mustered the energy to execute such actions, Hsiao-Hu, in a sudden motion, bent down and lowered his head, taking the burning length of the shaft into his mouth as he moved his tongue lightly around its head. Commander Ho moaned in both pain and arousal, and couldn’t help but thrust his hip even further, seeking to completely bury himself inside Hsiao-Hu’s mouth.

Within two minutes, Commander Ho came gus.h.i.+ngly inside Hsiao-Hu. It couldn’t really be called an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n though, for the s.e.m.e.n merely trickled out in a feeble but ample flow. Swallowing without a second thought, Hsiao-Hu made his way between the Commander’s legs. He bowed down to retake the deflating c.o.c.k into his mouth, and sucked as if he were licking on sweets.

Despite having climaxed once already, Commander Ho’s body was still quite sensitive. Since it seemed that Hsiao-Hu had no intention to cease his pleasuring, Commander Ho, in a moment of inertia, had somehow brought up his dangling legs and rested them on Hsiao-Hu’s shoulders. His trousers too had been removed entirely, and Hsiao-Hu’s hands glided up his thighs and grasped his hips while he wetted Commander Ho’s groin with a meticulous and eager tongue.

Sweat started forming around Commander Ho’s brow and his half-closed eyes. With a sudden and startled “Oh!”, he reached another mini-o.r.g.a.s.m—though it came reluctantly, as his member hadn’t achieved full erection.

This time, Hsiao-Hu’s tongue pushed the fluid toward the crack of his b.u.t.tocks. Commander Ho’s “oh” had come softly and timidly, enough to shatter something in Hsiao-Hu and send him plummeting to perdition.

Meanwhile, Commander Ho was still submersed in a trancelike state of elation. He rested his calves on Hsiao-Hu’s shoulders, too tired to wriggle even the tip of his toes. Hsiao-Hu could be trusted, and besides, he was probably too young to notice his abnormality. At ease, Commander Ho closed his eyes as he recovered.

He lay on his back, his breathing slow and slight, and his expression satisfied and serene. As he was just about to slip into a luscious dream, a sharp pain between his legs made him cry out—it was a m.u.f.fled cry, since a hand had clasped over his mouth the moment he opened it.

And the pain grew increasingly intense before turning into a tearing torture.

The hand over his mouth withdrew, and his legs were pressed against his chest, contorting his body as if to highlight the point of the penetration. This was the position meant for f.u.c.king women, a position in which Chao Hsiao-Hu was now f.u.c.king him brutally. Commander Ho broke out in a cold sweat in pain, but he couldn’t cry out for help. Not only was he unable to cry out, he had to swallow his pained groans through clenched teeth.

He wanted to reach for his pistol under the pillow, but lost control of his body with Hsiao-Hu’s thrusts. He struggled to make eye contact with Hsiao-Hu, whispering fitfully: “sto—stop it…”

Hsiao-Hu rearranged Commander Ho’s legs on his shoulders, and with his hands clutching the commander’s waist, he rammed into Commander Ho savagely. His movements were so desperate that it was as though he had some unspeakable grudge against the commander, and wished to f.u.c.k him to his death. Commander Ho had stared at Hsiao-Hu viciously, but at last even his eyes lost their focus, and all he could feel was a burning wedge being driven inside him, time after time, drilling deeper and deeper into his guts.

With bloodshot eyes, Hsiao-Hu emptied himself deep inside Commander Ho with exhilarated delight. Exhaling heavily, he pulled out and looked down, only to gasp in shock at the sight.

Droplets of blood were splattered along edge of the bed, evidently shed as he withdrew from Commander Ho. Upon closer inspection, he saw that Commander Ho’s torn entrance was still protracted, and blood continued to ooze out with streaks of white, which must have been his own seed.

Panicking, he looked up at Commander Ho, his voice breaking into something of a sob: “Commander, are you all right?”

Commander Ho had gone very white. He opened his mouth, and pointed a strenuous finger at Hsiao-Hu. “How—how dare you…”

Hsiao-Hu blinked, tears dribbling down his face. He turned to clean up the blood with straw paper, sniffling. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t know it would turn out like this… Don’t be afraid, I’ll get some medicine.”

Commander Ho pummelled his bed feebly, and with his last gasp, murmured: “there’s medicine in the cabinet… Keep quiet.”

Chao Hsiao-Hu was certain that Commander Ho was going to kill him. He thought his crime quite horrendous, and probably deserved death, though he had absolutely no wish to die.

As he reflected upon the events of that night, a delayed fear caught up with him. He had no idea where he’d gotten the nerve to simply pull off his pants and shove it into the other man. He really didn’t. It was as though something had possessed him.

But the experience was still very much worth savouring. It had been tight, warm, soft, quivering… Like the virgin girl he’d raped at Guw.a.n.g Village. Even that virgin body wasn’t as nice as Commander Ho’s—it turned out that he was really made of porcelain from head to toe.

With a wet towel, he cleaned up the blood on Commander Ho, and applied the powdered medicine. Commander Ho had first groaned in pain, but quieted as the powder started working its effect.

Hsiao-Hu pulled the cotton quilt over him, and kneeled at the foot of the bed.

Commander Ho fell asleep, and Hsiao-Hu remained kneeling for the rest of the night.

At noon, Commander Ho woke up on time. He noticed Hsiao-Hu’s kneeling form by the bed, and said nothing while he ordered him about his daily business, as if nothing had happened the previous night. Hsiao-Hu was puzzled, and highly alarmed. For years he had served Commander Ho, and he knew that the Commander’s heart was not much wider than the point of a needle. Things would be less disconcerting if Commander Ho had torn off a chunk of Hiao-Hu’s flesh the moment he woke up, or had shredded him into pieces with his pistol.

Commander Ho could not leave his bed, and since his wound had been on his backside, it had to be kept quiet. With the intention toatone for his crime through his actions, Hsiao-Hu looked after Commander Ho tirelessly. Fortunately, the divisional commanders were off fighting with their troops, allowing Commander Ho to heal his wounds in secluded peace.

By the fifteenth day, Commander Ho had recovered for the most part. He could sit, and he could walk, though he sat with caution and walked very slowly.

During these fifteen days, he had never once looked at Hsiao-Hu in the eye. Hsiao-Hu didn’t let his guard down at the Commander’s apparent calmness—Commander Ho couldn’t possibly simply let the matter drop, unless he wasn’t really Commander Ho and something else had taken his place.

On the sixteenth night, a few guards tied up Hsiao-Hu in his sleep. He was about to cry out, but his mouth was gagged.

He was left hanging inside the woodshed at a most painful height where the tip of his toes could only brush against the floor. He groaned, thinking he was going to dislocate his arms.

“What have you done?” A guard whispered to him. “The Commander ordered us to tie you up.”

And Hsiao-Hu knew his life was over. The only reason Commander Ho hadn’t turned on him yet was because he needed someone to look after him in secret. Now that he had recovered, he was out to settle the entire score!

He started to panic, and tried to stand on tiptoes in a desperate attempt to find a point of support.

The glow of torches emerged through the door. With one hand in his pocket and another holding a horsewhip, Commander Ho strolled in.

The woodshed had a small door, and because the Commander was quite tall, he had to lower his head as he stepped through. In the torchlight, Hsiao-Hu could see that he was wearing a black padded silk jacket; his clothes were black, his hair black, even his eyes and brows were black—a sharp contrast against the deathly white of his face.

Pale and expressionless. His eyes were still, his gaze empty.

Hsiao-Hu stared at Commander Ho with wide eyes, a bit frightened.

Commander Ho produced a pair of white gloves from his pockets and put them on. Holding the whip in his right hand, he swung out at Hsiao-Hu wordlessly.

Commander Ho had been storing up a lot of force. The first strike managed to rip open his army s.h.i.+rt, and the second one carved into his flesh. Hsiao-Hu squirmed around desperately, emitting m.u.f.fled groans, and because his mouth had been gagged, he felt like he was about to suffocate.

After thirty-five lashes, Commander Ho’s arm was starting to ache from the exertion. He handed his whip to a nearby guard. The guard, understanding, walked up to Hsiao-Hu.

Because they had all been good friends in former days, the guard could only lower his eyes in an awkward moment before swinging the whip regardlessly. The guard was stronger than Commander Ho, and didn’t dare to withhold his strength. By the end of the affair, the tip of the whip was unravelling. Hsiao-Hu had first groaned in pain, but later fell silent. His head lay drooping on his chest as he lost consciousness like a dead man in a noose.

Commander Ho ordered a guard to splash him awake with salt water, then waited wordless. After making sure that Hsiao-Hu had fully regained consciousness, Commander Ho walked up to him, and dragged the blade of a knife diagonally across his face.

Hsiao-Hu looked up at him, his gaze fervent, weak, tortuous.

Commander Ho’s lips curled into a mirthless smile, and carved another line into Hsiao-Hu’s face, marking a b.l.o.o.d.y cross.

He spoke his first words since the start of the torture. “I could rescue you from a corpse pile, and I can send you back. I have fostered you, yet you have failed me. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

At this, he pressed the tip of the blade against Hsiao-Hu’s left shoulder and pushed in slightly. He dragged it downwards in a slow motion until he reached the waist, where he turned his wrist, and like the stroke of a child’s painting, brought it upwards.

Trembling grunts escaped Hsiao-Hu’s through his nose as the knife carved over his ribs. He looked at Commander Ho pleadingly, like a large, confused animal begging for forgiveness.

Commander Ho looked back at him, his eyes obsidian and devoid of temperature.

He drew numerous soft curves on Hsiao-Hu’s body. Blood seeped through these curves, decorating Hsiao-Hu’s body into a bloodied gourd.

Finally, he seemed to have gotten tired. He shoved the blade into Hsiao-Hu’s chest with force, but was hindered by a rib.

He became impatient. He yanked the knife downwards in a ferocious streak, and as the blade entered the tender abdomen, he rammed it in, leaving only the hilt of the knife outside.

Hsiao-Hu made a sound deep in his throat; his eyes were still fixed on Commander Ho.

Commander Ho released the knife. Taking a step back, he removed the bloodied gloves and dropped them on the floor. He turned around, and as he was leaving, commanded: “when he stops breathing, throw him out of town.”

Back in his rooms, Commander Ho washed his hands and got changed for bed. He slept till late morning, when he opened his eyes drowsily and called out for Hsiao-Hu.

The orderly who came in at the call had a face he didn’t recognise.

“Commander, did you need something?”

Commander Ho stared at him. After a moment, he finally said: “I need water, a change of clothes, the toilet, and breakfast. Who are you?”

“I’m Li Bai,” the small orderly replied docilely to the floor. “I’m here to take over Chao Hsiao-Hu.”

Commander Ho laughed. “Can you read?”

“No.”

“And you have the face to call yourself Li Bai?”

The orderly didn’t know of Li Bai the poet, and couldn't understand what the Commander meant.

Seeing that he was rather dull-witted, Commander Ho said nothing further. “Where’s Hsiao-Hu?”

“Thrown into the ma.s.s grave at dawn.”

Commander Ho nodded, and sighed.

Breakfast was prepared, and Commander Ho sat at his table with his chopsticks. He was about to begin his meal, but his head snapped up as if he had suddenly remembered something. “Li Bai, send some men out to recover Hsiao-Hu’s body.”

Li Bai answered and ran out to pa.s.s on the command. After an hour or so, Adjutant Li jogged back in gasping for breath.

“Commander, I went looking for Hsiao-Hu outside, but I couldn’t find him. He probably got carried off by stray mongrels.”

Commander Ho picked up a teacup, and took a quiet sip.

“Look again.”

Hsiao-Hu’s wounds were severe, and when he had been thrown out into the ma.s.s grave, he had not only ceased breathing, but had a knife sticking out of his belly. There wasn’t a possibility that he had somehow survived. Adjutant Li and his men looked for him for a few more days, but couldn’t find even a single strand of Hsiao-Hu’s hair. Perhaps he really did get carried off by mongrels.