Chapter 19

Just then, the door was pushed open with a bang, and Sheng Xuan rushed in, carrying several oil paper packages and food boxes.

"I bought the food! I'm starving..." Sheng Xuan's loud voice stopped abruptly the moment he saw the scene in the room. His gaze, like a searchlight, landed precisely on the bedside—Su Zhelan was slightly bent over, focused on wrapping the last layer of bandage around Xiao Qiyun's arm, her fingers deftly tying a knot; while Xiao Qiyun was leaning against the headboard, his gaze locked on Su Zhelan's lowered profile, the focus in his eyes and... something indescribable, made Sheng Xuan's brows furrow instantly.

"Tsk!" Sheng Xuan made no attempt to hide his disgust, breaking the delicate atmosphere in the room that hadn't quite dissipated. He strode over to the small square table in the center of the room, slammed the things he was carrying down with a loud "thud," the oil paper package and food box colliding with a considerable sound.

As he roughly unwrapped the package and took out the still-steaming food one by one, placing it on the table, he continued to glance at the two people by the bed out of the corner of his eye. His tone was harsh, clearly showing his displeasure: "So that's why you were dawdling. So you were 'changing your dressing' here? Alright, alright, hurry up and finish! The food's getting cold!"

Su Zhelan was startled by Sheng Xuan's sudden intrusion and the noise of him throwing things. He sat up abruptly, his face flushed, and he looked at Sheng Xuan in a panic, then quickly glanced at Xiao Qiyun, stammering an explanation.

"It'll be ready soon! Shengxuan, you...you bought it?" He hurriedly packed his medicine box, trying to hide his embarrassment. The calm and composed demeanor of a doctor he had just displayed had vanished, leaving only the helplessness of someone caught red-handed.

Xiao Qiyun's gaze turned icy the moment Sheng Xuan burst in, as if it had been tempered with ice. He slowly sat up straight, his gaze shifting from Su Zhelan's panicked face to Sheng Xuan's obviously angry back, the tenderness and possessiveness in his eyes replaced by an extremely oppressive coldness.

He didn't speak, but simply used his intact right hand to support himself on the edge of the bed, and stood up nimbly, his movements carrying a silent warning.

Sheng Xuan seemed oblivious to the cold gaze behind him, or perhaps he simply didn't care. He slammed the last dish onto the table, clattered the bowls and chopsticks, then turned to Xiao Qiyun with his arms crossed, impatiently urging him to hurry.

"What are you still standing there for? Do you want me to feed you? Hurry up! While it's hot!" His gaze swept over Su Zhelan's reddened ears and Xiao Qiyun's cold face, and he snorted.

Xiao Qiyun's gaze grew colder under Sheng Xuan's provocative urging, but he did not react. Instead, he turned his attention to Su Zhelan, who was still frozen in place, at a loss.

Seeing Su Zhelan's flustered state, Xiao Qiyun's initial anger at Sheng Xuan was slightly replaced by a hint of helplessness and pity. He pursed his thin lips, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply stood up silently, preparing to help Su Zhelan up.

However, just as Xiao Qiyun took a step, Sheng Xuan's voice, filled with heavy mockery and undisguised sarcasm, rang out:

"Oh dear! Your Highness!" Sheng Xuan exaggeratedly drew out his words, crossed his arms, and gestured with his chin toward Xiao Qiyun's tightly bandaged left arm. "Your 'precious' arm is in this state, what are you still busy with? Hurry up and sit down and eat your meal! Otherwise, the wound might reopen, and we'll have to trouble Doctor Zhelan to 'serve' it again!"

Before she could finish speaking, Sheng Xuan had already rushed to Su Zhelan in a few steps like a gust of wind, her movements so fast that Xiao Qiyun's outstretched hand missed its mark.

Sheng Xuan stood in front of Su Zhelan, his figure almost completely enveloping her. He looked down at Su Zhelan's panicked face, a sly smile playing on his lips, clearly meant to provoke Xiao Qiyun. His tone was slightly "gentler" than when he spoke to Xiao Qiyun earlier—though still carrying his characteristic gruffness: "Alright, little doctor, stop standing there like an idiot. Let's go eat!"

As he spoke, he reached out, this time not to grab her wrist, but to put his arm around Su Zhelan's slightly thin shoulder, half-embracing and half-dragging her toward the table. The action carried an undeniable force, yet strangely avoided any potentially uncomfortable areas on Su Zhelan's body, appearing both forceful and... somewhat awkwardly protective.

Su Zhelan was startled by Sheng Xuan's sudden approach and the gesture of putting his arm around her shoulder, and almost involuntarily, she was led forward by Sheng Xuan.

Xiao Qiyun stood rooted to the spot, his gaze instantly turning icy as he stared at Sheng Xuan's hand, which was lounging unsightly on Su Zhelan's shoulder. His right hand, hanging limply at his side, twitched slightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. Sheng Xuan's teasing words, "precious paws" and "serve," were like needles piercing his ears.

His thin lips were pressed into a cold, straight line, his jawline taut, clearly as he struggled to suppress his surging anger. In the end, he said nothing, only giving Sheng Xuan a deep, unfathomable look with his dark eyes, the warning and chill in his gaze almost tangible.

Then, silently, with a heavy atmosphere, he turned around and walked back to his original spot, sitting down heavily, his gaze fixed like a nail on Sheng Xuan's hand that was still on Su Zhelan's shoulder.

Sheng Xuan felt the icy gaze behind him that seemed to pierce his back. Instead of letting go, he pulled Su Zhelan closer to him as if in a show of defiance, leading him all the way to the table. He pulled out the chair next to him and practically pressed Su Zhelan's shoulder to make him sit down.

"Sit here!" Sheng Xuan said loudly, his words carrying a pointed meaning. Then, he swaggered back to his original seat, picked up his chopsticks, and, as if nothing had happened, called out to the table full of dishes, "Let's eat! I'm starving!"

"Let's eat quickly." Xiao Qiyun's voice was low and steady, revealing little emotion, yet strangely carrying a sense of reassurance.

Su Zhelan was caught in the middle, with Sheng Xuan eating heartily on his left and Xiao Qiyun eating silently but exuding a chilling aura on his right. He took a deep breath, stiffly picked up his chopsticks, and began to shovel small pieces of rice into his bowl.

After a long while, Su Zhelan finally mustered her courage, lowered her head, and spoke in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper, as if talking to her own bowl:

"Um...that...Shengxuan, thank you."

He paused, his voice still very soft: "Thank you... for going back to get my medicine yesterday... and also, thank you for going out to buy breakfast this morning..."

Upon hearing this, the air at the dinner table seemed to freeze for a moment.

Sheng Xuan stopped eating. He turned his head in surprise to look at Su Zhelan's lowered head, her fluffy hair pointing at him.

The arrogance she had shown towards Xiao Qiyun just now seemed to have been somewhat tempered by this sudden, soft expression of gratitude.

His lips unconsciously twitched upwards, and he was about to habitually reply with "It's no big deal," but when his gaze swept over Xiao Qiyun, who was silent on the other side of Su Zhelan, that smug and sarcastic feeling resurfaced.

"Hmph!" Sheng Xuan snorted, deliberately raising his voice a few decibels, with an exaggerated "I'm very capable" tone. "No need to thank me! It's just running a few blocks, no big deal!"

Startled by Sheng Xuan's sudden increase in volume, Su Zhelan shrank back and lowered her head even further. Her fingers, gripping the chopsticks, turned slightly white, the curve of which was just right, revealing both nervousness and composure.

He paused for a moment, then asked in an even softer voice, the last syllable of his voice trembling deliberately and just right: "...Yesterday...Master...didn't make things difficult for you, did he?"

As he finished speaking, he caught a fleeting glimpse of smugness in Sheng Xuan's eyes out of the corner of his eye. He sneered inwardly—sure enough, this act of "weakness and guilt" was most effective on Sheng Xuan, who was the type to respond better to gentleness than force.

Sheng Xuan's performance arrived as scheduled. The expression on his face instantly underwent a 180-degree turn, like a Sichuan opera face-changing act, switching from arrogance and domineering to utter "pitifulness".

He sighed heavily and dramatically, the sound long and mournful, his shoulders slumping as if he were bent over by an invisible weight of grievance.

"Sigh—!" Sheng Xuan's sigh was so full of bitterness. He put down his chopsticks, turned his head, and locked his gaze on Su Zhelan's lowered face with a wet look, full of accusation and pleading for comfort. His voice suddenly became soft and pitiful:

“Ze Lan…you have no idea…” He paused deliberately, sniffed, as if trying to suppress his “heartache,” “Yesterday? It was more than just difficult! Su Yan…he practically gave me a thorough dressing-down!”

"I hadn't even caught my breath when I walked in!" Sheng Xuan's voice trembled with a barely perceptible sob, her performance incredibly convincing. "He was there like a demon, blocking my way, his face so dark... like a storm cloud! Without a word, he launched into a tirade of abuse! 'Who told you to act on your own?' 'Who gave you permission to touch things?' 'Who gave you the guts?'... Oh my god, that voice was so loud, it made my ears ring, and dust even fell from the rafters!"

As he vividly described the scene, he patted his chest with lingering fear, as if the "stormy" scolding was still ringing in his ears.

The moment that exaggerated sigh escaped his lips, Su Zhelan had already composed himself: his brows furrowed slightly, and he gently bit his lower lip, as if this "grievance" had struck a nerve. He even deliberately let his breathing falter, creating the illusion of being "struck by guilt."

“Shengxuan…I’m sorry.” His voice was tight, with a perfect sob, as if he was about to burst into tears. He raised his head, his gaze behind the veil “looking” at Shengxuan. The hazy white veil perfectly concealed the calmness deep in his eyes—he knew clearly that what Shengxuan wanted was not an apology, but the confirmation of being needed and relied upon.

“I know my master is strict… but I didn’t expect him to criticize you so harshly…” Every word seemed to be squeezed out of his throat, carrying the weight of “self-blame”.

He paused, deliberately took a deep breath, suppressed the non-existent "choking feeling," and gently curled his fingertips on the tablecloth—this action was to imitate the helplessness of genuine guilt, a survival instinct he had honed during his time in the Burning Heart Sect.

"It's all because of me... I've caused you so much trouble... and you've suffered so much... I'm so sorry." The last apology was spoken very softly, with a hint of fragility, like a thread that might break at any moment in the wind.

Su Zhelan could feel Sheng Xuan's body relax instantly, and his tense smugness was almost overflowing.

The rough texture of the tablecloth beneath his fingertips resembled the snake scales he'd stepped on in the pit years ago—the law of survival had never changed, only it had shifted from devouring poisonous insects to devouring human hearts. No matter how clumsy Sheng Xuan's acting was, as long as it could lower his guard, the act was worth continuing.

He even deliberately made his shoulders tremble slightly to make sure that Shengxuan could see the torment caused by this "guilt".

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Xiao Qiyun's fingertips pausing on the rim of his teacup. That momentary pause made Su Zhelan's nerves tense up almost imperceptibly—this man was too perceptive. Fortunately, his attention seemed to be more focused on Sheng Xuan's foolish "get-his-desire" expression at that moment.

The play must continue.

Su Zhelan gently put down her chopsticks, clasped her hands together on her knees, and adopted a docile and apologetic posture. Her voice was as soft as cotton: "From now on... I won't cause you any more trouble."

This show of weakness completely satisfied Sheng Xuan's protective instincts and subtly reinforced her "fragile" persona. Su Zhelan sneered inwardly, but her eyes welled up with moisture at just the right moment.

Sheng Xuan looked at Su Zhelan's sincere apology and her eyes full of guilt towards him, and felt secretly pleased, but he still maintained the expression of "I suffered a little grievance, but I will forgive you because you are so sensible".

He twitched the corners of his mouth, which was considered an acceptance of the apology, and even reached out and gently patted Su Zhelan's arm with a hint of reassurance.

"Alright, I know you didn't mean it." Sheng Xuan's voice softened, sounding as if he was "magnanimously" letting it go.

Xiao Qiyun finally raised his eyes, which had been lowered all along. They no longer held a deep sense of repression, but rather a cold, icy scrutiny.

That gaze, like a cold probe, carried a chilling intent that seemed to pierce through everything, slowly sweeping across Su Zhelan's face, which was filled with panic and apology, before finally landing on Sheng Xuan's face, which held a hint of smugness and provocation.

Xiao Qiyun ate very little, his movements still refined, only slower than usual. When he put down his chopsticks, there was still a little more rice left in his bowl.

He picked up the water glass beside him, took a small sip, and his gaze lingered on Su Zhelan's lowered hair for a few seconds. Finally, Xiao Qiyun spoke. His voice was soft, with a deliberately gentle tone, as if afraid of disturbing something:

“Shengxuan,” he called, turning his gaze to Shengxuan, his tone calm and revealing no emotion, “You stay here and keep Zhelan company.”

Sheng Xuan was secretly pleased with himself for successfully provoking Su Zhelan's guilt and gaining the opportunity to take care of her. Upon hearing Xiao Qiyun's words, he immediately put on a smiling face: "Okay, don't worry! I will definitely stay with you!" He emphasized the word "stay with you" a little, with a hint of smugness.

Xiao Qiyun sighed almost inaudibly, a sigh tinged with helplessness and a hint of barely perceptible heartache. He continued in that gentle, explanatory tone:

“Yesterday… my clothes got torn.” He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, his voice becoming even softer. “Going straight back wouldn’t be a good idea. I’m going out to buy some things, and while I’m at it… see if there’s any suitable place to stay nearby.” He avoided any words that might upset Su Zhelan, stating only a reason for needing to leave.

Su Zhelan suddenly raised his head and looked at Xiao Qiyun. He caught Xiao Qiyun's soft sigh and also heard the deliberate gentleness and evasiveness in Xiao Qiyun's tone.

Sheng Xuan watched Su Zhelan's reaction from the side, scoffing inwardly but forcing a smile on his face: "Go ahead, Zhelan, I'll make sure he's comfortable!"

Xiao Qiyun simply nodded and stood up. His movements remained steady, but his silhouette seemed to carry a hint of imperceptible loneliness. He opened the door, his figure disappearing outside, the door closing softly behind him, almost without a sound.