Deviant: No Longer Human

"Wait… are you leaving?"

Seraphina stood there, dressed up, her curves barely hidden by the silk robe. Wang Xiao's silhouette faded into that strange portal. She bit her lip, calling out.

She'd just called Josephine. The girl would be here any minute. Couldn't he wait? At least spend one night... indulge them both.

Wang Xiao turned back, a smirk curling on his lips. This woman… did she really think he came here just to play with her and her daughter in bed? Well... not that he minded. But life had other demands.

He walked over. Smooth. Unpredictable. She gasped as his lips crashed onto hers. Her body softened, her knees trembling like jelly.

His words, sharp and slow, brushed against her ear. "Announce it. You're carrying my child… And you, along with your daughter, will marry me."

"Eh—?!"

His voice was like cold water, drenching her thoughts. Before she could react, he was gone... like smoke in the wind.

But his words lingered.

Her. Pregnant? Announce it? Wasn't that the same as yelling to the world she'd bedded the Eighth Prince?

Wait... He also mentioned her daughter? Together?!

Was this lunatic planning a family combo deal?!

The door creaked.

"Mom! Where's he?"

Josephine barged in, her cheeks flushed. Excited. Her body language screamed anticipation. Seraphina, leaning against the counter, tried to compose herself.

"..."

Her heart sank. How the hell was she supposed to explain this madness to Josephine?

"Here."

That lazy, smug voice echoed. Josephine froze as a pair of arms snaked around her waist from behind.

"Ah?!"

"!!!"

Seraphina's eyes twitched. This bastard! Didn't he just say he was leaving?

He was toying with her. Her teeth clenched. Her foot stomped. Then she blushed furiously... realizing how girlish she looked.

Wang Xiao didn't stay. After teasing them to his heart's content, he vanished for real. No night spent here. Not today.

Because elsewhere…

Zhenxi. That little girl. She wanted his time. A walk under the stars. How could he refuse? Years of seperation deserved some preference. He spent Christmas night with her, her laughter warming the chilly air.

Later, his sisters... Then, when the world was asleep, he crept into Qian Ruixin's room. The clock whispered 4 a.m. He wanted to see her panic... just for fun.

"You—!"

Qian Ruixin's face turned ghostly pale as he yanked her blanket away. Her chest heaved. Recognizing him, she exhaled sharply, glaring with disbelief.

"Xiao Wang! Are you trying to scare me to death?!"

Her eyes darted to the side. 4 a.m.

This bastard. What was he doing here... prowling like a phantom?

Too many people had cursed Wang Xiao today. He didn't care.

"I thought you'd be lonely... came to check."

Before Qian Ruixin could respond, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down. His hand slid inside her pajamas, pressing against her soft chest.

"!!"

Qian Ruixin's face flushed crimson. "Who's lonely?!"

Her lips said one thing, but her body betrayed her. After countless nights with him, she had grown used to the warmth—and the emptiness when it was gone. Women, too, have their desires. Years of drought…

"D-don't do it now. Others will wake up," she stammered, panic flickering in her eyes as she watched him strip.

Wang Xiao leaned closer, shushing her with a finger on her lips. His voice was low, commanding. "Women should listen to their man."

"..."

Her heart skipped. Her man? That was new. She'd always thought she was just his plaything.

She looked at him, her emotions a tangle of confusion, frustration, and... longing. Wang Xiao wasn't about to clarify.

Moments later, the room filled with her muffled cries of pleasure. He didn't bother holding back the sound, letting it echo through the house like a declaration.

In the quiet of the night, Madam Li stirred in her bed.

"Did Shan'er come back?"

Her husband stirred awake, his voice groggy with sleep.

Madam Li's heart jumped, but she forced a calm smile, gently patting his shoulder. "Don't disturb the children..."

She coaxed him back to sleep, her hands trembling slightly. Only when his breathing steadied did she let out a quiet sigh of relief. Her cheeks burned as the sounds from her daughter-in-law's room grew louder, cutting through the stillness of the night.

She knew. It wasn't her son, Murong Shan, in there.

It was someone else.

Her house was a mess.

She sat frozen, her hands gripping the quilt. What if she walked in and he pulled her in too? The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

The moment she realized it was the Eighth Prince, she swallowed the insult of that day. What is rape?

To be touched by him… wasn't that a blessing? She didn't dare tell her husband.

Women are like this, she thought bitterly. They swallow pain, bury shame. She knew if she told her husband, the blame would fall on her. He'd kick her out without a second thought, no matter who was at fault.

It's always the women who bear the wrath.

So, she endured.

_____

"Ahhhhhh..."

Qian Ruixin let out a loud, uncontrollable moan, her body arching as her trembling legs gave way beneath her. Her thighs were slick, and she gripped the sheets desperately, her entire body shaking as she squirted onto the bed.

"Haaa! Haaa!..."

he sensation overwhelmed her, leaving her panting, her flushed face buried in the pillows.

Her chest heaved as she turned her head, shame flickering in her eyes as they landed on Wang Xiao. He leaned casually against the corner, lighting a cigarette, his smirk making her want to scream.

"...."

She had no words. The audacity! Acting as though he wasn't the cause of her mess.

Groaning, she dragged herself up, ignoring the ache in her thighs. Naked, she stripped the sheets off the bed, her face burning. It always felt like she'd wet the bed... no matter how many times this happened.

As she fumbled with the clean sheets, she paused, glancing at him. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face.

"Hey…"

"Hm?" Wang Xiao turned his head lazily, but his gaze didn't stop at her face.

Instead, his eyes trailed down to her breasts—those perfect, trembling mounds, with bruised, cherry-like nipples still taut from his earlier attentions.

"..."

Qian Ruixin bit her lip before stepping forward. Sitting on his lap felt like crossing a line she hadn't dared approach before.

"??"

Wang Xiao arched a brow, curious. People didn't approach him like this unless they wanted something.

"Mmmghhh…" He didn't wait for her explanation, his hands already cupping her breasts, his mouth hungrily claiming one. Whatever she wanted could wait—he had a feast to finish.

But this time, Qian Ruixin didn't resist. Her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer.

"Xiao Wang~ I need some money…" she whispered, her voice breathy.

Wang Xiao paused, licking his lips. "Money?"

She nodded, her expression tinged with shame. He was her junior, yet she was asking him for help. But then again... wasn't he her man now?

Wang Xiao didn't blink. "How much?"

"It's… too much…"

Without a second thought, he transferred it to her.

Her phone buzzed. When she checked, her eyes widened. One... two... eight zeros? A hundred million yuan?

Her heart raced. "Are you joking?!"

Wang Xiao leaned back, exhaling smoke. "Rui, that's nothing to me."

She knew it was true. But to her, it was staggering. Before marrying into the Murong family, she barely lived on a few thousand yuan a month from her brother.

"You're not even curious what it's for?" she asked softly.

Wang Xiao smirked, brushing a hand through her hair. "Why would I care? Buy clothes, eat well, party… whatever makes you happy."

But Qian Ruixin had something else in mind. When she explained, Wang Xiao's expression froze.

"Are you my PR manager now?"

"Just look at your image online!" she snapped. "Everyone's scared of you. Genocides, Murder, assault, scandal—it's all over the internet! Can't you fix it?"

She wasn't asking him to stop his ways—killing and harassing people was who he was. Honestly, she wasn't powerful enough to question him, but she knew one thing for certain: he hadn't risen to this level by merely lighting incense in temples.

She couldn't even begin to fathom what he had gone through to become the current him.

It was irreversible.

The real world was dirty. She knew it. She couldn't change it. She didn't want to change him.

But couldn't he at least pretend? Pretend to be charitable? Start an NGO. Donate. Whitewash his image just a little.

Her time in the Murong family had changed her. Living among the elites, she had realized something—every one of those so-called philanthropists hid their filth behind charity. And it worked. The world ate it up.

Wang Xiao didn't need the public's approval. He didn't need their help. He was powerful enough to stand alone. But… what if there came a day when he did?

Wouldn't it be a good idea to lay the groundwork now? A façade, just in case.

Qian Ruixin would never have thought of something like this before.
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But — that's just how women are. When they like a man… they justify everything he does. They don't stop him; they help him.

Even if his hands were stained red, she'd find a way to polish the blood into something glorious.

Wang Xiao shook his head. What others thought didn't matter. Still, he gave her Anran's number. "If you're that serious, it'll take money and resources."

To his surprise, Anran not only supported the idea but went overboard. She wanted him to become the new god of the era.

Years later…

Wang Xiao strolled through the Qing Dynasty streets, temples in his name towering above him. Statues of him, incense, prayers… people worshipped as if their lives depended on it.

He cursed under his breath. "Damn those two women... I should've never given them such liberty!"

But it was already too late.

The once fearsome and dreaded Wang Xiao had become the world's most revered figure—the epitome of generosity and the ideal image of a god.

The whitewashing was done so flawlessly that even if someone dared to step forward, crying about what he'd done to their family, the crowd would silence them.

"How dare you sully the Prince's name?!" they'd shout, fists flying.

In their eyes, he wasn't a man. He was a divine figure. And divine figures… could do no wrong.