Chapter 36 The Embrace Of Truth

Deming had been waiting his whole life for someone who loved him unconditionally, someone who would see him, truly see him, beyond his circumstances. And now, he finally found that person, standing before him, his voice filled with a desperate longing. Would he leave and start over, fleeing the pain and complexity of his past? Or would he take a few steps back, back into the arms of the only one who truly loved him, who had always loved him?

Deming stood there, suspended in time, memories of the past flashing through his mind like gentle raindrops in spring, each one a tender, aching reminder. Then, with a surge of undeniable emotion, he turned around and ran, not walked, but ran into Guozhao Zhiqiang's open arms. For him, being held in Guozhao Zhiqiang's arms had always been the safest place in the world, a sanctuary from all his pain.

Deming's new height, in Dong Enlai's body, could only reach Guozhao Zhiqiang's chest. Guozhao Zhiqiang stood at six feet two inches tall; his could no longer stand on tiptoe like before, where his lips would naturally meet Guozhao Zhiqiang's. "Lower down your head, Zhiqiang," he said softly, his voice a little muffled against Zhiqiang's chest.

Guozhao Zhiqiang, with a profound understanding, lowered his head, his gaze tender. Deming stood on tiptoe, put his arms around Guozhao Zhiqiang's neck, and kissed him deeply on the lips, a kiss of reunion, of love, of truth. He didn't know how long they had been kissing, lost in the moment, but his toes began to hurt from the roughness of the rocks in the pond. He decided, reluctantly, not to kiss Guozhao Zhiqiang anymore, pulling himself away slightly. "Are you feeling warm now, Zhiqiang?" he asked, his voice breathless.

Guozhao Zhiqiang scoffed softly, a sound of profound contentment. "Yeah, my Deming. It's much warmer. My heart is overflowing." He hugged Deming tightly in his arms, pulling him closer. "Sit down, I'll wash your hair for you. You must be exhausted."

Deming was sitting on a rock, the cool stone beneath him, and Guozhao Zhiqiang began to gently wash his hair, his fingers tenderly massaging his scalp. Deming took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong, Deming?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, sensing his unease.

Deming sighed again, a tremor in his voice, and asked, "Aren't you bothered by this body, Zhiqiang? By my new appearance?"

"No," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. He continued to wash Deming's hair, his touch unwavering.

Deming frowned, his insecurity surfacing. "This isn't the body you once loved, Zhiqiang... I am much shorter than the original me. My hair is black, not red."

Guozhao Zhiqiang hugged Deming from behind, pulling him close, his voice a soft, profound whisper. "I love you from the bottom of my heart, Deming, not because of your appearance. I love you because of the way you make me feel when I am close to you, the way you complete me. I will love you in any shape and form, in any body, just because you're still my Deming, my soulmate," he said softly, his words resonating with absolute truth.

Deming turned around, tears blurring his vision, and looked directly into Guozhao Zhiqiang's eyes, seeing the unwavering love there. He reached out and touched Guozhao Zhiqiang's face, his fingers tracing the familiar contours. He smiled through his tears, a radiant, joyful smile. "Thank you for loving me, Zhiqiang," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

Guozhao Zhiqiang felt a familiar, beloved touch from Deming's hands, a sensation he had yearned for. Deming touched his face, still exactly the same as it was thirteen years ago, unchanged by time. He picked Deming up, effortlessly, and put Deming on his lap, their bodies pressing close. He started kissing Deming again, a deep, passionate kiss, his lips devouring Deming's. His hands undid Deming's belt, his movements urgent, as he stuck his tongue down Deming's throat, seeking a deeper connection. His tongue intertwined with Deming's, a dance of reunion.

Guozhao Zhiqiang stuck his right hand behind Deming's back and reached for Deming's back door, his fingers exploring. He inserted a finger into Deming's back door and thrust slowly, gently, preparing him. Deming moaned, a soft gasp of pain and pleasure, but still kissed him anyway, lost in the moment. After a while, he inserted his second finger, which made Deming moan even more, a louder, more urgent sound.

Guozhao Zhiqiang picked up Deming with his right hand, effortlessly, and his two fingers were still in Deming's back door. Deming's legs were tightly wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. He carried Deming and walked towards one of the larger, smoother rocks, a more comfortable surface. He took off Deming's pants when he got to the big rock, discarding them. His hands held onto Deming's buttocks, his touch firm and possessive. He then slowly lowered Deming's buttocks toward his hard, throbbing member, guiding him.

Deming moaned in pain, a sharp intake of breath, when the tip of Guozhao Zhiqiang's member entered Deming's backdoor, stretching him. "Please be gentle, Zhiqiang," Deming said softly, his voice trembling, "this body is still a virgin. It's new to this."

"I know, my love," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, his voice husky, kissing Deming deeply on his lips, reassuring him.

Guozhao Zhiqiang slowly lowered Deming's body inch by inch, taking his time, allowing Deming to adjust. Deming bit his left shoulder, a desperate attempt to stifle a cry, as his member penetrated deeper inside Deming's backdoor. He took his time, slowly inserting until his entire member entered Deming's back door, a tight, full sensation. He then slowly thrust, his movements deliberate.

Deming came back to his senses, the pain subsiding, and kissed Guozhao Zhiqiang, a deep, passionate kiss of surrender and desire.

Deming felt like the first time he made love with Guozhao Zhiqiang in that bamboo house, a rush of familiar sensation. He felt his back door start to itch, a strange tingle, and there was obvious pain, a sharp ache. Every time Guozhao Zhiqiang thrust in, he felt that his back door was full, stretched to its limit. He moaned heavily because of the intense mixture of pains and pleasures, a symphony of sensation. He looked down and saw blood mixed with water running down his thighs. He knew that it must be the blood from his back door, because when he made love with Guozhao Zhiqiang for the first time, there was also some blood, a similar mark of new intimacy.

Guozhao Zhiqiang slowly pushed his member into Deming's back door, his movements controlled. He wanted to go faster and harder, to lose himself in the passion, but he was afraid that Deming would get hurt more after they made love, afraid of causing him more pain. Deming's virgin backdoor was incredibly tight, and every time he thrust in, he felt that his limbs were being massaged tightly by Deming's back door muscle wall, a delicious friction.

Guozhao Zhiqiang thrust quickly, his pace accelerating, and then released inside Deming's backdoor, a powerful surge. He leaned Deming against the rock, his body spent, and he used his left hand to softly massage Deming's member, bringing him pleasure.

After a few strokes, Deming's was also released into Guozhao Zhiqiang's hand, a warm, sticky release. The two of them, breathless and content, washed up in the pond and tidied up their clothes, their bodies still humming.

Guozhao Zhiqiang looked at Deming, whose cheeks were as bright as a red apple from Immortal Valley, flushed and beautiful. He wasn't sure if the flushes on Deming's face were due to the pain he caused Deming or the embarrassment of his actions, or both. "Can you walk, my love?" he asked, his voice tender.

Deming shook his head shyly, a faint smile on his lips.

Guozhao Zhiqiang kissed Deming on the forehead, a tender, possessive gesture. He grabbed both of their robes and gave Deming's robe to Deming. He then picked up Deming, effortlessly, and carried him back to their home, their sanctuary.

Deming put his hands around Guozhao Zhiqiang's neck and rested his head on Guozhao Zhiqiang's right shoulder, a profound sense of peace settling over him. "Zhiqiang, will you be okay with this body? My new appearance?" he asked, a lingering insecurity.

"Mm," Guozhao Zhiqiang replied, a soft, reassuring hum. "More than okay, Deming. I love you."

As soon as the two got home, Guozhao Zhiqiang carried Deming into the bedroom, their private space. He took out Deming's old clothes, the ones he had carefully preserved, and handed them to Deming.

Deming held his clothes, his eyes wide with surprise. "Do you still keep these, Zhiqiang? After all this time?" he asked, touched by the gesture.

"Yes. They may be a little long on this body, but it should be fine for one night," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, a soft smile on his face.

Deming took off his wet pants and put on the dry clothes, their familiar feel comforting. Deming went to the bed and lay down, sighing contentedly.

Guozhao Zhiqiang picked up Deming's wet clothes and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Deming asked quickly, a sudden fear of being left alone.

Guozhao Zhiqiang turned around and smiled at him, a warm, reassuring smile. "I'm going to hang up your wet clothes. I'll be right back."

Guozhao Zhiqiang opened the screen door on the left and hung Deming's wet clothes on the porch railing, letting them air dry. He went back to the room and sat beside Deming on the bed.

Deming took Guozhao Zhiqiang's right arm and leaned on Guozhao Zhiqiang's right shoulder, settling into his embrace. Guozhao Zhiqiang kissed him on the head, a tender, loving touch.

"You know how to use the soul sacrifice spell, Deming?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his voice low, a serious question.

"No," Deming replied, shaking his head.

"Then how did your soul enter this body, Deming?" Guozhao Zhiqiang questioned, his brow furrowed.

"If I told you I didn't know, would you believe me, Zhiqiang?" Deming asked, his voice soft.

"Mm," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, a firm, immediate affirmation. "I believe you."

Deming explained, his voice filled with the lingering trauma, "I was waiting for you that day, Zhiqiang. I didn't go very far from the camp. Then I saw Hu Dingxiang and his personal servant talking. I don't know what they were talking about, but Hu Dingxiang seemed very angry, his face contorted." Deming sighed, a shudder running through him. "Then I saw Huang Wei and Dong Enlai. Huang Wei had sprained his ankle, and Dong Enlai was carrying him. I was taking them back to the camp, trying to help. We stopped by the river for some water. Two masked men came towards us, suddenly, violently. Dong Enlai was kicked into the water, and Huang Wei fought bravely with the two masked men. When I went to rescue Dong Enlai from the water, he was already dead, his body lifeless." Deming burst into tears, the memory overwhelming him. "I saw the boss, Hu Dingxiang, stabbing Huang Wei's spear into Huang Wei's abdomen and pinning Huang Wei to the tree, a cruel, monstrous act."

Guozhao Zhiqiang wiped Deming's tears with his thumb, his face grim, filled with a cold fury. "So, it was Huang Wei who performed the soul sacrifice, Deming? He transferred your soul?"

"I don't know, Zhiqiang. I died before him. When I woke up, I was already in this body. I stayed in Guzheng Sector for two and a half years, trying to understand," Deming confessed, his voice broken.

"How are they treating you? In Guzheng Sector?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

"They treated me well. Bingqing was very kind," Deming replied.

"Good," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, a profound relief in his voice.

Deming broke free from Guozhao Zhiqiang's embrace, a sudden anger flaring. "Are you going to ask who the boss is, Zhiqiang?! Are you going to acknowledge the truth?!" he demanded, his voice sharp.

"It doesn't matter who he is, the important thing is that you are still here, with me," Guozhao Zhiqiang stated, his voice calm, trying to soothe him.

Deming pushed Guozhao Zhiqiang away, his anger boiling over. He angrily said, his voice trembling with accusation, "The reason why you don't want to know is because you don't want to believe that the man you've had a crush on for more than ten years would do such an evil thing, right?! You're afraid to face the truth about Hu Dingxiang!"

Guozhao Zhiqiang sighed, a long, weary sound, and looked at Deming, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Deming...it's not like that. It's not what you think."

Deming burst into fresh tears, his voice raw with pain and perceived betrayal. "I know you love him, Guozhao Zhiqiang! You still do!"

"Don't get me wrong, Deming," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, his voice desperate, trying to explain.

Deming felt that his heart was betrayed by Guozhao Zhiqiang's perceived inaction, by his reluctance to face the truth about Hu Dingxiang. He said sadly, his voice filled with an aching sorrow, "But it was him, not me, that you fell in love with at first sight, Zhiqiang! It was Hu Dingxiang!" He turned around and started walking away from Guozhao Zhiqiang, unable to bear the pain.

Guozhao Zhiqiang quickly grabbed Deming's waist and hugged him tightly, pulling him back, refusing to let go. "Deming, believe it or not, the person I've always loved has always been you. No one can take your place in my heart, past, present, and future," he said, his voice filled with a profound, unwavering love. He turned Deming around to face him and gently wiped Deming's tears with his thumb. "I know there's a lot of anger in you, a lot of pain. Don't think about it anymore, my love. My First Master once said, 'There will be people in your life who will make you angry, disrespect you, abuse you, but by releasing their shackles, those unpleasant feelings can never defeat you, they cannot control you'." He sighed, a profound weariness in his voice, yet filled with resolve. "I promised you that from now on, I'll be the wall that keeps you away from those unpleasant emotions, that protects you from pain. Uh... Leave your anger and hatred on the palm of my hands, okay? Let me carry it for you."

Deming nodded, tears still flowing, and hugged Guozhao Zhiqiang tightly, burying his face in his chest, finally surrendering to the comfort and love. In the dead of night, the two kept hugging each other tightly, their bodies pressed close, and the many lanterns down in Cloud City began to dim as the candlelight slowly burned out, leaving them in the quiet embrace of their reunited love.