Chapter 17 My wife beat me.

It was a merciless kick.

With a thud, He Cong was kicked to the ground.

He groaned, covered his chest and looked at her, "Wife..."

Shang Youqing's face turned cold, as if he was taming some large beast. He pulled him into the inner room by the scruff of the neck, ignoring everything, and then slammed the door shut from the outside.

Soon, the sound of He Cong banging against the door and a muffled voice began to be heard again, "Wife, don't go. Don't go."

Shang Youqing certainly did not respond.

She waited until the inner room was completely quiet, and guessed that He Cong had finished his sleepwalking and gone back to bed. She walked to the window again, opened it slightly and looked out. The rain still hadn't stopped.

Shang Youqing was angry about He Cong's unconscious and disturbing sleepwalking, but from the temperature of He Cong's body just now, he could tell that He Cong's temperature had become even higher.

She also knew that if the fever continued to be so high, something would happen to her, not to mention that there was no telling when the rain would stop.

Shang Youqing glanced back at the tightly closed inner room, and finally opened the door of the outer room. Braving the rainy night, he took an umbrella and a flashlight and went out of the yard.

Shang Youqing didn't walk too far. He planned to find some fever-reducing herbs near the woods and then go back.

She searched in the rain for about half an hour, then returned to the old lady's yard carrying a bundle of herbs. As soon as she entered the yard, Shang Youqing almost immediately noticed something strange.

The window in the inner room was open and creaking in the wind and rain.

Shang Youqing unlocked the door of the inner room and walked in. The room was empty and there was no sign of He Cong.

The old lady obviously heard the noise very quickly. Just as she was about to come over from the other side of the yard, Shang Youqing stopped her and said, "It's okay, grandma. The window was accidentally blown open."

Shang Youqing didn't want to make the old lady worry in the middle of the night, so he closed the windows and doors. He guessed that the person might not have gone far. After the old lady went back to the house to sleep, he went out with an umbrella.

Because of the muddy weather on a rainy night, Shang Youqing searched near the stream for a while and soon found He Cong's footprints. She shone a flashlight and followed the footprints all the way to the place.

Soon, perhaps by coincidence, Shang Youqing saw He Cong on the hill where she had just picked herbs.

He Cong had indeed not sleepwalked into the depths of the forest. He was mechanically wandering back and forth under a tree on the hillside. He was soaked all over, but he seemed to be completely unaware of the cold and had no intention of leaving.

Shang Youqing walked over and shone the flashlight on him.

He Cong seemed to have smelled something, and finally raised his head slowly from his inactive state. His face was pale, and his moist and heavy eyes looked at her. After a second, he suddenly turned his head away indifferently, his thin lips tightly closed, as if he was angry with her.

“…”

After such a night of tossing and turning, Shang Youqing really didn't have time to argue with him anymore, so he could only patiently coax him: "Can you go back first?"

He Cong's voice was cold and clear, "My wife hit me."

He turned his back to Shang Youqing and refused to turn around, continuing to complain, "My wife doesn't want me."

“…”

What a mess.

Shang Youqing didn't want to waste time talking to him, so he stared at him and asked, "Are you leaving or not?"

Otherwise, when He Cong's men come up the mountain, they will find that He Cong died in the deep mountains and forests in the middle of the night, and she will become a suspect in his murder.

He Cong's tall body stood stubbornly under the tree, his face grim and motionless.

He looked like he was going to get drenched to death in the rain if she didn't coax him into submission.

...Half a minute later, Shang Youqing frowned and stretched out his hand as if he was ready to die.

At the same time, she silently thought to herself that this guy was only sleepwalking and mistook her for his deceased wife, and he wouldn't remember her when he woke up. In order to prevent her from taking the responsibility for a human life inexplicably, she had better be patient for a while and coax the man back first.

He Cong slowly lowered his head, his wet eyes falling on the fair and slender hand extended by Shang Youqing. After a long while, the corners of his mouth finally lifted slightly, and he held her hand contentedly and followed her back obediently.

Shang Youqing endured it all the way with a cold face, letting the hand hold her tightly. As soon as she returned to the old lady's yard, she shook off his hand and walked into the inner room.

He Cong followed her closely, silently.

Shang Youqing picked up the clean old clothes that the old lady had brought him and threw them to him to change. He Cong took them, looked at the clothes in his hand, then looked at his own wet clothes, and raised his head hesitantly, "Wife, help me take them off."

Shang Youqing's response was to lock him in the inner room again, and this time he blocked the window from the outside, warning the person inside: "Don't come out."

Then he went into the kitchen to boil the medicine, thinking anxiously while doing so.

How could someone sleepwalk into the woods?

As the head of the first family in Hamajima, suffering from such severe sleepwalking symptoms, has he never seen a doctor?

Shang Youqing prepared the fever-reducing herbs, unlocked the door and brought them in.

He Cong had changed his clothes and was sitting quietly beside the bed. His face was pale and bloodless, and his eyes were blurry from the fever, but he was still trying to sit there and wait for people.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, he slowly raised his eyes and touched his lips coldly: "Wife, it's cold..."

Nonsense, he ran into the deep mountains and forests in the middle of the night and got caught in the rain. It’s a good thing he didn’t freeze to death.

Shang Youqing pushed the bowl of medicine at the right temperature over to him unhappily, "Drink the medicine."

He Cong took it slowly, and drank it obediently without asking what the medicine was. He raised his head again, his eyes burning red as he looked at her, "Still, it's cold..." Shang Youqing took the bowl of medicine and was about to leave. The next second, He Cong's hot hands reached out and wrapped around her waist. He buried his head in her lower abdomen, his voice hoarse and with a hint of suppressed grievance, "Wife, let me hold you."

Shang Youqing stood beside the bed, his brows cold, his hands hanging by his side clenching and unclenching repeatedly, trying his best to suppress the urge to kick someone again.

Perhaps he was worried that after kicking the man, he would be accused of hitting someone and run out in the rain again, or maybe he was worried that he would disturb and wake up the old lady. In any case, Shang Youqing put down the medicine bowl on the wooden cabinet with a stern face and did not leave.

The next morning.

The rain outside seemed to have finally stopped, and a ray of sunlight came in through the wooden window.

The roar of an approaching helicopter came from far above the forest, waking people up.

He Cong opened his sleepy eyes, vaguely sensing something, and his gaze slowly moved downwards.

His hands were clasping a few fingers that did not belong to him. The fingers were clean, slender, white, and very soft, and he held them tightly between his fingers.

He Cong's gaze followed the thin hand to the right. When he saw clearly that the person sleeping on the edge of the bed was Shang Youqing, his eyes suddenly turned cold. He pulled his hand back and sat up, his face as cold as frost. "Why are you sleeping here?"