“You look awful when you cry,” Yang Qingheng gasped, struggling to lift a hand. “Pull me up.”

Song Hengjue's sadness and heartache froze on his face. After a moment of silence, he reached out and carefully took her hand, half-embracing her as they stood up.

Feeling unbearably hot all over, Yang Qingheng wiped the blood from her lips and calmly asked, "Could you please arrange a doctor for me, sir? They gave me an aphrodisiac."

The police officers were shocked and quickly put them in the car.

Before she could even settle in, Yang Qingheng pushed Song Hengjue away and sat alone in the innermost corner. Her face was flushed, and her crimson lips were stained with blood. The decadent aura emanating from her made the policeman in front of her stiffen, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, not daring to relax for a moment.

Song Hengjue felt a surge of jealousy. He glared at the two of them, then reached out and pulled up Yang Qingheng's coat, buttoning it all the way to the top.

Yang Qingheng was not so comfortable. The man's fingers were cold, and his rough fingertips lightly brushed against her hot neck. The fusion of ice and fire sent electric currents crackling up from her tailbone to her neck. The string of reason in her mind became tighter and tighter. All it took was a spark, and a huge fire would erupt.

She took a deep breath and suddenly opened her eyes. The man's pale fingers were right in front of her. The bluish-purple veins on his ring finger were tinged with lust, making them exceptionally alluring.

Yang Qingheng's eyes felt hot.

She forcefully slapped his hand away, her voice chillingly cold: "Get lost."

Song Hengjue noticed the disdain in her eyes, his fingers froze, and he fastened the last button on her neck before obediently sitting a little further away.

He paused, then peeked at her again, belatedly realizing his grievance.

Yang Qingheng had no energy to care about his feelings. She suppressed the flames of passion rising within her, and the taste of blood in her throat grew stronger.

Finally arriving at the clinic, Song Hengjue picked her up and ran wildly towards the hospital.

"This...this is the first time I've seen this medicine. My medical skills are not good enough to cure it. You'll have to go to the city hospital." The doctor was an old man who shook his head awkwardly after taking the pulse.

Song Hengjue pursed his lips, carefully wiping away the blood seeping from Yang Qingheng's mouth, his face grim: "If it can't be treated here, where can it be treated?"

“You need to go to the county hospital; the doctors there might be able to help,” the doctor pointed outside. “Just follow this road; it’s a two-hour drive.”

After hesitating for two seconds, glancing at Yang Qingheng, he added, "But judging from her appearance, I'm afraid she can't wait."

With such a strong drug, enduring it for this long is already the limit; any longer and my brain will congest with blood and I'll be finished.

"Two hours?!" Song Hengjue's expression changed, and he grabbed Yang Qingheng and ran outside.

Two policemen followed closely behind.

"Song Hengjue, let me go." Yang Qingheng's face was pressed against Song Hengjue's chest, and it felt like a million ants were gnawing at her bones. It hurt and itched. Her thoughts were out of control, and her body was restless, trying to rub against him. She squeezed out the last bit of reason and weakly spoke.

Her soft lips pressed against his neck, and the blood in his arteries seemed to ignite suddenly. Song Hengjue's brain was filled with a burst of fireworks, and everything around him became nothingness. He stood there dumbfounded, holding Yang Qingheng, his fingers stiff and at a loss. He stammered, "Yang Qingheng, you... don't do this."

The sound of swallowing came from behind. The two policemen in front exchanged a glance, hesitated, and turned back: "...Are you still going to the hospital?"

Song Hengjue stretched out his large hand and pressed it against Yang Qingheng's face to prevent her from getting closer. However, the woman's hand had already wandered into his collar, and the icy touch made him shudder.

The two people behind them were busy talking back and forth, and had no energy to answer the policeman in front of them.

Finally, Fang Nan opened the car door and jumped out first: "Let's go, let the couple resolve their own issues."

The two policemen hesitated for a moment, then, hearing the sizzling sound from behind, their faces turned bright red. They exchanged a glance and jumped out of the car as if fleeing for their lives, right behind Fang Nan.

As the group disembarked, the atmosphere inside the cramped carriage grew increasingly heated, with only the breaths of the two individuals mingling and entwining in the deep night.

Song Hengjue's hands were bulging with suppressed anger as he reached under his clothes and forcefully pulled Yang Qingheng's hand out, pressing it against her head. His burning forehead pressed tightly against hers, pinning her against the car window. His dark eyes gleamed with a dim, fragmented light, and his breathing was rapid: "Yang Qingheng, think it through. Do you really want to be with me?"

Yang Qingheng was dizzy, only seeing his lips opening and closing. Her mind was blank, and she nodded randomly. With red eyes, she couldn't help but bite his thin lips.

Song Hengjue gasped, his blood rushing to his head. His arm muscles bulged, and he gripped her waist tightly, pulling her into his arms. His hard chest and abdominal muscles pressed painfully against Yang Qingheng's body, but his mind became even more excited.