Awkward childhood friendship
Gu Yansheng's fingertips trembled. He walked barefoot across the cold floor, reached the cabinet, and pulled open the long-dusted drawer. Inside lay a dark, hardwood ruler, about 40 centimeters long and two fingers wide. Its surface was smooth, with a cold, hard sheen. He picked it up; it felt heavy, like a block of ice, and it numb his palms.
He turned around, lowered his head, not daring to look at Jiang Lin. As if holding a hot iron, he moved back to the bed step by step and handed over the ruler.
Jiang Lin reached out to take it. His fingers were long and powerful, gripping the middle of the ruler. The cold object seemed to come alive in his hands, imbued with the majesty of judgment. He gently tapped Gu Yansheng's clenched fist at his side with the tip of the ruler.
"Hand, stretch it out. Palms facing up." His voice was still steady, but with an irresistible, almost cruel calmness.
Gu Yansheng's heart was pounding so hard it threatened to burst through his chest. He was gripped by a huge sense of shame and fear of pain, but even deeper was the regret for his careless words.
He slowly and with great difficulty raised his right arm and spread out his slightly sweaty palm. The red rash on his arm was even more glaring under the light, and as he raised his hand, several areas became even more red and swollen due to the tightness of the skin.
Jiang Lin's gaze swept over his rash-covered arm again, his expression still as calm as if it were merely a pattern on the backdrop. His entire attention was focused on Gu Yansheng's open, slightly trembling palm.
"Which of the words just now was the most hurtful?" Jiang Lin's voice sounded low, as if he was asking about a case.
Gu Yansheng's lips moved a few times, and his voice was as thin as a mosquito. "They... they are all hurtful..."
"Which sentence?" Jiang Lin asked, his tone heavier and firmer, with an air of irrationality that would not tolerate any perfunctory response.
Gu Yansheng closed his eyes, tears finally falling, hitting the back of his hand. "... said you were kidnapping yourself... told you to get out..."
Jiang Lin was silent for a few seconds, that silence weighing like a solid lead weight on Gu Yansheng's heart. His fingers gripping the ruler tightened slightly.
"Remember this pain." Jiang Lin's voice was as cold as ice. "Remember the price of speaking without restraint."
The moment he finished speaking, the ruler, with a sharp sound of wind, hit the center of Gu Yansheng's outstretched palm mercilessly and accurately!
“Bang!”
A crisp and loud hitting sound exploded in the silent room!
Severe pain! It was a sharp, burning pain that instantly penetrated the skin and flesh! Gu Yansheng bit his lower lip fiercely and let out a suppressed groan. His whole body trembled violently at the pain. His outstretched palms instinctively wanted to curl up, but were forcibly fixed by an invisible force, perhaps Jiang Lin's cold gaze.
A clear, red and swollen rafter appeared on the palm of his hand at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Jiang Lin had a blank expression on his face, his eyes sharp as an eagle, staring intently at the rapidly swelling red mark, as well as Gu Yansheng's face that was pale with pain and the way he was trying to hold back his tears.
“Bang!”
The second time, it was exactly on the same position!
"Ugh!" Gu Yansheng gasped in pain, her body swaying as tears welled up in her eyes. Her palms burned, the pain even briefly overpowering the itchy allergy on her arms.
Jiang Lin still showed no sign of stopping. He seemed to be using this most primitive and painful method to make Gu Yansheng remember the lesson forever. The ruler was raised again, carrying the cold sense of judgment.
The third time!
“Bang!”
This blow seemed even heavier than the previous two. Gu Yansheng couldn't hold it in any longer, and he let out a short whimper. His entire arm drooped limply in pain, his palm red and swollen. The purlin was bulging high, even a little purple at the edge. He gasped for air, his body twitching slightly from the pain and sobbing.
Jiang Lin finally stopped. He lowered his eyes to gaze at Gu Yansheng's horrific hand. The swollen palm formed a grotesque and cruel contrast with his rash-covered arm. The knuckles of his fingers, gripping the ruler, were white from the force applied. But deep within his eyes, beneath the frozen lake, a tiny ripple seemed to stir, too fast to be detected.
He said nothing, nor did he glance at Gu Yansheng's face. He simply placed the ruler, still wielding its power, gently on the bedside table, with a soft click. Then, he turned, silently left the room, and closed the door.
The only sound in the room was Gu Yansheng's suppressed, intermittent sobbing. The severe pain in his palms and the strange itchiness in his arms intertwined, reminding him of everything that had just happened.
Jiang Lin's cold, disregarding, yet precise execution of the "rules" filled him with a deep, bone-deep sense of intimidation and... a twisted, tightly controlled sense of security, more than any scolding could have. Those three blows from the ruler not only struck his palm, but also burned into his troubled heart.
I don't know how much time passed, perhaps only a few minutes, or perhaps as long as a century. The sound of the doorknob turning gently made Gu Yansheng shudder, and he held his breath for a moment. He lowered his head like a frightened rabbit and wiped his face with his uninjured left hand, trying to hide the tears.
Jiang Lin is back.
He was no longer holding dishes and chopsticks, but a white medicine box that was incredibly familiar to Gu Yansheng. His face remained expressionless, its lines hard and cold, but the almost tangible, judgmental pressure that had gripped him seemed to dissipate somewhat, replaced by a deeper, more difficult-to-interpret solemnity.
Without a word, he walked directly to the bedside and squatted down in front of Gu Yansheng. This height made it impossible for Gu Yansheng to avoid his gaze. He saw the complex emotions swirling in Jiang Lin's eyes—lingering anger, deep fatigue, and... a concern that bordered on pain.
Jiang Lin's gaze first fell on his horrifically damaged right hand. The palm was swollen, three purple-red ridges clearly visible, and the edges were even slightly broken. Gu Yansheng subconsciously wanted to pull his hand back, but Jiang Lin stopped him with a look.
Then, Jiang Lin's gaze slowly shifted to his arm, covered in rashes. This time, he didn't ignore it, nor did he show any surprise or disgust. Instead, he examined it carefully with the calm, almost scrutinizing gaze of a doctor. There was no sympathy in his eyes, only assessment.
He opened the medicine box, his movements quick yet deliberately gentle. He first took out a tube of anti-allergic ointment, unscrewed the cap, and squeezed a little onto his fingertips.
"Hand." Jiang Lin's voice was low and hoarse, carrying a command, but it no longer had the cold edge when he was enforcing the "rules" just now.
Gu Yansheng hesitated for a moment, then, still trembling, very slowly extended his injured right hand. His palm was facing upward, exposed to the light and Jiang Lin's gaze. Shame and pain made his fingertips tremble.
Jiang Lin didn't apply the medicine immediately. Instead, he used his free hand to pick up a bottle of medical disinfectant spray and gently sprayed it twice on the red, swollen, and broken palm. The cold liquid contacted the burning wound, causing a brief sting. Gu Yansheng couldn't help but hiss, and his body tensed.
"Bear with it." Jiang Lin's voice was soft, but undeniable. He waited for the disinfectant to evaporate before carefully and gently applying the cool anti-allergic ointment from his fingertips to the raised red rashes on Gu Yansheng's arms.
His fingertips were lightly callused, but his movements were remarkably focused and patient, as he spread the ointment drop by drop, evenly smearing it over every patch of itchy skin. The coolness of the ointment temporarily suppressed the annoying numbness and itchiness, bringing a sense of relief.
After treating his arm, Jiang Lin squeezed out another dose of ointment, this time specifically for bruises and contusions. His eyelashes drooped, his gaze fixed intently on Gu Yansheng's swollen palm. His fingertips, laced with ointment, gently touched the three hideous rafters, as if handling a piece of fragile porcelain.
When the cold ointment touched the most swollen and painful center, Gu Yansheng couldn't help but shudder and gasp.
Jiang Lin paused and looked up at him. Gu Yansheng's gaze met his deep eyes, and the surging emotions within nearly drowned him—heartache, self-blame, helplessness, and a heavy feeling that threatened to overflow.
"It hurts?" Jiang Lin lowered his voice even more, almost to the point of being just a breath.
Gu Yansheng bit her lower lip and shook her head vigorously, tears welling up uncontrollably. It wasn't because of the pain, but because of the stark contrast between this belated, cautious tenderness and Jiang Lin's ruthless enforcement of the "rules" just now.
Jiang Lin didn't ask any more questions, simply lowering his head and continuing his work. He applied the ointment even more gently, as if tracing some precious lines, carefully avoiding any broken skin, covering the burning pain with the cool ointment. His focused and silent posture carried a piety that bordered on atonement.
After the ointment was applied, the only sounds in the room were the faint breathing of the two people. Jiang Lin didn't stand up, still half-crouching in front of Gu Yansheng, his eyes solemnly gazing at his palm and arm, where the ointment had been applied. Then he raised his eyes and looked directly into Gu Yansheng's tearful eyes, filled with panic and guilt.
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