Chapter 15 How dare Ji Chengnin come to him for help...

Before he could finish speaking, Ji Chengning felt a chill on his forehead.

He felt a mixture of hot and cold sensations, as if he were swallowing burning coals or standing naked in the freezing cold, which was extremely uncomfortable. When he suddenly touched this cool and smooth thing, he couldn't help but shiver.

It felt comfortable.

He wanted to put it on, but he was still rational and had to force himself to resist.

From Cui Yao's perspective, the young marquis's neck and chest were taut, as if he wanted to reach up and touch Cui Yao's hand, but he also tried his best to press down, his body trembling slightly.

The skin under my fingers was burning hot.

Cui Yao calmly moved her hand away, her voice revealing nothing amiss, "Your Highness, you have a fever."

Ji Chengnin opened his eyes and said firmly, "Absolutely impossible."

His body could not possibly be that weak!

Besides, he couldn't admit it in front of his cousin, even if he was being coy.

He thought he looked very intimidating, pointing to the sky and the earth, but now his eyes were red-rimmed, his face was covered in blood, and he looked terribly disheveled. A few strands of hair clung to his chapped lips, with faint traces of blood showing through.

Even his eyes were glazed over from the heat, yet he still stubbornly refused to admit it.

“Okay.” Cui Yao nodded.

The early spring night wind was still cold. The young marquis had dressed lightly to look good, and he was drenched in blood. His soaked clothes clung to his body. He had spent the whole night killing horses, saving lives, and beating people, which had exhausted him. The cold and fatigue combined to make him sick. He must be made of iron!

Moreover, Ji Chengnin was not made of iron.

Cui Yao thought coldly.

He was the heir of the Marquis of Yongning, a man of great wealth and privilege, raised by Ji Lin like a precious jewel, a fragile figure whose mere presence could inspire fear.

But for someone who is neither a relative nor an acquaintance...

He gripped the blood-stained handkerchief tightly in his hand, so tightly that the handkerchief, unable to bear the weight, made a slight tearing sound.

Ji Chengning was stunned by this heartless response. His peach blossom eyes widened as he tried to stare at Cui Yao.

This was the first time he had ever been sick and received such cold treatment. He wanted to say that Cui Yao didn't care about him at all, but he felt extremely heavy all over. He struggled to move his tongue and could only manage to hum and moan.

He struggled to lift his head.

The warm, moist heat that had just brought him comfort fell back onto his forehead.

Cui Yao narrowed her eyes.

Ji Chengning leaned against the carriage wall, and Cui Yao sat beside him, making it inconvenient for her to wipe his face. If she stood in front of the young marquis and wiped his face from above, she was afraid that the young marquis, who was sometimes heartless and sometimes extremely wary, would resist.

He pondered for a few seconds, then reached out and gently put his arm around Ji Chengnin's shoulder.

The latter looked at him blankly.

The next moment, Ji Chengnin's eyes widened suddenly, "My hair, my hair is covered in blood!"

Cui Yao then pressed him down onto her lap.

Ji Chengning didn't think about the strict separation between men and women. He simply put himself in their shoes. If someone were lying on his lap covered in blood, he would tear their head off and use it as a football.

Cui Yao easily suppressed his struggle, picked up a handkerchief, and gently wiped Ji Chengnin's burning face.

Ji Chengning stared blankly at Cui Yao.

His mind was a mess, and he couldn't see people clearly. Through his blurry tears, he could only make out a sharp and beautiful profile, making it even harder to tell if it was a man or a woman.

It was exactly like the assassin in his dream.

Ji Chengnin trembled slightly.

He was so exhausted that he didn't even have the strength to sit up. He was leaning against the carriage wall, feeling nauseous from the jolting. This support was like a godsend to him.

Cui Yao gently placed one hand on the back of his neck and asked softly, "Is it not allowed?"

Ji Chengnin wanted to nod, but then slowly shook his head.

They still refused.

The cool skin pressed against the back of his neck, like a snake coiling around it. His Adam's apple bobbed violently as he felt a mixture of craving for the cool temperature, instinctive wariness of the threat, and resistance to the obsessive cleanliness.

Cui Yao lowered her head even further.

The delicate, clean fragrance wafted over his face, grinding away at his already precarious mind like a dull knife cutting into flesh.

Miss Cui's beautiful yet chillingly cold face drew closer, coaxing, "Really, is it not allowed?"

...

Xu Jing'en was carried back to the mansion.

A flurry of activity swept through the Xu residence. Servants frantically searched for stools and called for help. Suddenly, someone announced, "Master is here!"

Zhang Cong stiffened and instantly perked up.

He was the deputy commander of the Imperial Guards. Although he and Xu Sheng did not spend every day together, they occasionally worked together.

Zhang Cong had a very deep impression of this official. In the second year of the Mingde era, a rebellious minister dared to defy the emperor. In his anger, the emperor ordered the imperial guards to drag the man out and, together with thirty-one of his accomplices, beat him to death with canes in the open space outside the Xuanzheng Hall.

Fearing that some members of the Imperial Guard might be colluding with rebels and abusing their power, the emperor sent his trusted confidant to oversee the execution. The confidant was Xu Sheng.

Zhang Cong had only been in the Imperial Guard for a few years at that time, and he followed behind the commander with bated breath, acting as a majestic decoration.

The lead-filled cane was extremely heavy; a single blow was enough to tear a person's skin apart and cause blood and flesh to fly everywhere.

The ground was covered in blood, mud, and mangled flesh. Zhang Cong almost vomited as he looked at the broken armor embedded in the ground. The refined and gentle Lord Xu, however, remained calm and composed. He raised a phoenix eye and said gently, "Traitors and rebels deserve to be killed by everyone."

However, seeing him rushing over, Zhang Cong felt a pang of emotion. Such a cruel and heartless man still had a heart that cared for his child.

"Bring my seal," Xu Sheng said, his face turning slightly pale, "and summon the imperial physician!"

"Yes, yes!"

A close attendant quickly took the seal and hurried away.

The servants carefully carried Xu Jing'en into the bedroom. Zhang Cong hesitated for a moment, then stood at his sides in the outer room.

His gaze wandered aimlessly, when he heard the physician in the inner room say in a panic, "Don't take it off! The clothes are stuck to the skin! Quickly, get the silver scissors!"

"Click, click, click."

Zhang Cong looked over and saw a sandalwood table in front of the glass display case, on which stood a clock imported from overseas. It was extremely exquisite and gorgeous. Two naked children with wings held up the clock face. However, under the glass case was not a clock, but twelve bright red pearls as red as blood.

The room was filled with the stench of blood.

Xu Sheng turned his head away. "Thank you, Lord Zhang, for bringing my son back." He hastily cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, and Zhang Cong hurriedly returned the greeting, only to be stopped by Xu Sheng. "Lord Zhang, what exactly happened? How did my son get so badly injured?!"

Just as Zhang Cong was about to speak, he suddenly heard a sharp, piercing scream coming from the inner room. It was so shrill that it sounded like someone was scratching and clawing at the ground with their fingernails, using all their strength.

Xu Sheng's expression changed drastically. He rushed into the inner room and hurriedly grabbed his only son's hand, "Anu, your father is here."

Xu Jing'en opened his mouth, but spat out a mouthful of blood, which terrified Xu Sheng even more. His voice was extremely hoarse, "It's Ji Chengning, it's Ji Chengning!"

Xu Sheng's face darkened, and he said to Zhang Cong, who was standing at the door, "Lord Zhang."

Zhang Cong said tactfully, "The young marquis did indeed have a disagreement with your son, but it was also for..."

Two streams of tears rolled down Xu Jing'en's bruised eyes. "He even killed my son Chang Li! For such a trivial matter, Father, you must seek justice for me, Father..."

Xu Sheng tilted his head slightly, and Zhang Cong immediately went out with him.

Xu Sheng said in a deep voice, "I will remember what happened today."

Zhang Cong was overjoyed and bowed deeply, saying, "It's my duty, sir, you're too kind."

“My son is being unruly, and I apologize for making you laugh, Commander Zhang. In my opinion, it’s just a child’s quarrel, nothing serious,” Zhang Cong looked up and met Xu Sheng’s thoughtful eyes, and he shivered. “However, if we do end up before His Majesty in the future, Commander Zhang, you must report the truth.”

Zhang Cong understood immediately, "This subordinate understands."

Knowing that Xu Sheng was worried about his son, he said solicitously, "Sir, you are busy with official duties, so I will not disturb you any longer."

Xu Sheng nodded. "Someone, escort Commander Zhang out."

He then quickly entered the inner room.

Xu Jing'en, with bloodshot eyes, saw Xu Sheng enter and, as if seeing a lifeline, began to sob, "Father, it hurts so much."

He had several teeth broken, so his speech was slurred and unclear.

Xu Sheng comforted him, "Alright, you can rest at home for a few more months. Later, your father will submit a memorial to His Majesty explaining the reasons and apologizing."

"father!"

Xu Jing'en struggled to get up, but was in too much pain to do so. "Does Father no longer side with me?"

Xu Sheng smiled slightly, but his eyes were filled with an unyielding fierceness. He gently comforted him, "Don't worry, just focus on recovering."

...

Ji Chengnin refused decisively, but not resolutely.

Cui Yao remained silent for a moment, then slowly released her hand.

The latter suddenly lost his support and felt half of his body dangling in the air, as if he was about to fall to the ground at any moment. His heart tightened, and he tried to sit up, but he could only lift his waist in vain.

Like a fish that has been pulled ashore for a long time, it struggled one last time in its death throes.

The imagined pain did not come.

He lay steadily on something, not very soft, but with undulating muscles and great resilience. The two of them were close together through the fabric, the cool body temperature eroding his burning body, and he groaned.

Yes, Cui Yao's thigh.

Ji Chengning was no longer fully conscious, but he struggled to open his eyes to look at Cui Yao.

His usually arrogant and domineering eyes were now completely devoid of any power, only shrouded in a thin layer of water.

The handkerchief wiped down his forehead, leaving a warm, damp patch wherever it touched.

Ji Chengnin couldn't help but look up, as if thirsty, to reach for the handkerchief.

Cui Yao's eyes darkened further.

He slowly moved his hand away, deliberately avoiding touching Ji Chengning. The latter looked at him pitifully, showing weakness for a few moments before realizing that the person in front of him was truly heartless and unmoved.

Ji Chengning instinctively knew that begging Cui Yao would be useless. He struggled to lift his head and body, trying to reach for the handkerchief.

Cui Yao then raised her hand again.

He watched Ji Chengnin's every move intently.

Ji Chengnin sobbed quietly.

He tried to speak, but his lips moved only briefly before he couldn't utter a complete sentence.

The only thing visible was a wrist so white it almost gleamed with a ghostly light.

Ji Chengning then leaned forward and gently pressed his hand against that spot on the skin.

The fingers on the back of the neck tightened suddenly!

Ji Chengning felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. His muddled mind made him wonder what he had done wrong. He looked at Cui Yao with a puzzled and aggrieved expression in his eyes.

Cui Yao stared intently at Ji Chengning.

To save someone, he put himself in such a wretched situation. He never imagined that he was the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. He dared to be so unprepared, and was extremely frivolous.

For a little comfort, one can easily offer anything by being coquettish and ingratiating.

I wonder how many times he's succeeded with others to be so adept at it.

Cui Yao smiled.

His upper and lower teeth clashed violently, clenching tightly.

He leaned down, his nose almost touching Ji Chengnin's.

The stench of blood emanating from Ji Chengnin was so strong it was almost suffocating, mixed with a smoky aroma that was damp, sweet, and strange.

Cui Yao whispered, "You little fool."

How dare Ji Chengnin come to him for relief?

A note from the author:

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