Chapter Fourteen: Walking into a Trap
Chapter Fourteen
Wen Zhuo's first attempt at cosplaying Sadako ended in a major failure.
She plunged headfirst into the embrace, landing in a familiar arms, carrying a familiar fragrance—it was you! The culprit—Wen Zhaoye!
She was about to rub her head when her hand was snatched away and a large hand gently placed on her head.
"Scaring someone can cause problems."
Wen Zhuo looked up and glared at him: "Wen Zhaoye, why did you install so many surveillance cameras? Are you a pervert?"
Wen Zhaoye's expression remained unchanged, his dark eyes swallowed by the darkness, and he readily accepted her accusations. Wen Zhuo then felt it was meaningless. She turned to look at the evidence of Wen Zhaoye's crimes and was stunned by the sight before her.
The enormous screen almost filled the entire wall, and she stared in awe.
Wow, that's so weird. Wen Zhaoye really needs to see a psychiatrist.
Upon closer inspection, she noticed that the cameras on the central screens were all pointed at the spot where she had just been, and she began to shake her head and sigh like a little adult.
"Ugh, what a pervert."
"Sigh, it's my fault for not raising him properly." Wen Zhuo took the opportunity to add a seniority to his family.
Wen Zhaoye averted his gaze from her, casually tapped her forehead, and said nonchalantly, "Scared?"
"How is that possible!" Wen Zhuo almost jumped up, but when she met Wen Zhaoye's calm gaze, she sat back down dejectedly.
Back on Wen Zhaoye's legs.
She suddenly realized this fact; she was sitting in Wen Zhaoye's lap, but Wen Zhaoye did not raise a single objection, and even his previous symbolic coy refusal had disappeared.
Shouldn't he verbally tell her she's "unruly," then casually give her a few slaps and tell her to leave, but then act like he's giving in if she doesn't want to?
What's going on today? This is so strange!
Wen Zhuo began to panic.
Wen Zhaoye turned his face to the side, with only half of his face illuminated by the screen, while the other half was shrouded in darkness. His fingers were entwined with Wen Zhuo's loose hair, the heat of which was much greater than that of a ghost lingering on her cheek. His fingers wrapped around her hair and then loosened, and after Wen Zhuo breathed a sigh of relief, he wrapped them around her hair again, gently tugging at her scalp.
Wen Zhuo swallowed hard, rendered speechless by the strange atmosphere.
Why aren't you saying anything?
You look like you're about to force me to my doom any second now, who would dare say a word? Wen Zhu thought to himself.
Wen Zhaoye loosened his fingers, finally letting go of the few strands of her hair that had been pulled into curls. He suddenly leaned in, his entire body enveloping Wen Zhuo. Then, his face pressed against hers, his voice soft, like the hiss of a venomous snake.
"Trying to run away?"
Wen Zhuo didn't know why he suddenly brought this up. She looked puzzled and said, "What do you mean by running away? This is my territory. Even if you've installed a bunch of surveillance cameras, it's still my territory. What does it mean for me to run away if I leave my territory?"
"This can only be called going out to play!" she said seriously.
"Going out to play?" Wen Zhaoye repeated softly, his gloomy aura dissipating considerably, and his expression seemed to lighten. He then asked, "Will you come back?"
Wen Zhuo replied without hesitation, "Of course, I'm going home."
Wen Zhaoye leaned back casually in his chair and said jokingly, "Others call it a hotel, but I call it home, right?"
Wen Zhuo was puzzled; what did this have to do with Wen Zhaoye?
Wen Zhaoye glanced at her, then covered the ghost's eyes to keep it out of sight. Most of the ghost's face was covered, leaving only its mouth still chirping silently.
Wen Zhaoye: "..."
His fingers uncontrollably caressed her skin, and he saw her lips, which were not very rosy, suddenly stop and purse.
He stared at her for a long time, then remembered that Wen Zhuo couldn't remember anything like a goldfish, and his frustration surged up again. He hugged Wen Zhuo and pulled her body into his arms, ignoring her complaints such as "It's so tight, I can't breathe!"
Are you a goldfish?
Wen Zhuo answered in a muffled voice, "I'm not, I'm a ghost."
"Can you be a little gentler? I'm suffocating!"
"It's not like you can't push it away."
Yes, she could have pushed you away, but since you've already thrown yourself into my arms, she can't very well refuse.
But what's with this tone? What's wrong with Wen Zhaoye? Has he mutated? Wen Zhuo felt as if melted candy had stuck all over her body, making her feel sticky and uncomfortable.
She started to struggle, but while struggling, she was also worried that Wen Zhaoye would get hurt. She was too considerate.
Wen Zhaoye released her somewhat unhappily, and Wen Zhuo flew away in a flash. Wen Zhaoye sat and stared at her, but did not raise his hand to stop her.
Wen Zhuo looked left and right, but couldn't find an excuse to leave. He made a face at Wen Zhaoye and then popped out of the screen again.
Wen Zhuo slammed on the brakes and came to a steady stop.
She nodded vigorously. Excellent! No splash! 10/10!
*****
After the villa was filled with surveillance cameras, Wen Zhuo always felt uneasy. He had had these feelings before, but they were only slight sensations of being spied on, nothing as blatant as this.
She was a little unhappy for a moment, turned her head and glared at the surveillance camera. The camera didn't move, and Wen Zhuo became puzzled.
When she left, Wen Zhaoye kept manipulating the camera to play with her. Why is he not moving this time? Did he go to work?
She frowned, deciding to go and take a look.
Wen Zhuo buried her head in the camera, and a strange feeling of emptiness washed over her. She landed on Wen Zhaoye again, but Wen Zhaoye didn't hug her like he had before.
He lay on the chair with his eyes closed, his face extremely pale, completely unconscious.
Wen Zhuo: "!!!" What's going on? Do we have to take turns when something happens?
She patted Wen Zhaoye's face; even his lips were pale. His fingertips twitched, and his eyelids opened weakly. Upon seeing Wen Zhuo, his cold expression immediately softened. His throat was hoarse: "Why are you back?"
Wen Zhuo: "Is this the time to talk about this?!"
"Don't all you domineering CEOs have family doctors? Or doctor friends? What's the phone number? I'll call him over for you."
Wen Zhaoye said with difficulty, "Read less idiotic novels."
A huge question mark appeared above Wen Zhuo's head: "Is this the important point?"
Wen Zhuo didn't want to deal with the patient who had been delirious from the fever anymore. She took Wen Zhaoye's phone from his body, entered her own phone password familiarly, and lo and behold! She got in!
Wen Zhuo glanced at him, but he watched the whole thing without any reaction.
Wen Zhuo was speechless. Even a zombie with this level of romantic brain wouldn't eat this.
Wen Zhuo swiped open his contacts and asked him to name the doctor. Wen Zhaoye didn't want to talk, but when Wen Zhuo swiped to a certain point, he grabbed her finger and pointed to one of the names.
Wen Zhuo hesitated for a moment: "Is it really him?"
Wen Zhaoye nodded.
"Alright."
"Beep—beep"
A few seconds later, the call connected, and a familiar voice came from the phone:
"You still have time to call me?"
"Hello, this is Wen Zhuo."
The voice on the other end paused for a moment: "Hiss, you, no, what happened to Wen Zhaoye?"
Wen Zhuo looked up at Wen Zhaoye. He was weak, but he still stared at her intently: "He's almost dead."
"What!!"
His voice suddenly became noisy, accompanied by a few words: "I have something to do later."
"You're leaving already? Aren't you going to stay a little longer?"
"Let's go, let's get together next time."
After a while, the voice became clear again: "Ten minutes are up. Let him hold on for a while. If he can't hold on, then let him die."
Wen Zhuo felt his pulse; it was still beating. She then patted his face.
"Wen Zhaoye, hang in there a little longer, Xie Huai will be here soon."
"Wen Zhaoye, do Taoist priests also need to study medicine?"
Wen Zhaoye couldn't speak, but he held her hand; he wouldn't die for the time being.
Wen Zhuo was still very nervous. She talked more and more, and the topics became increasingly rambling.
"Wen Zhaoye, your illness is a bit strange. Just before I left, you still had the energy to argue with me. How come you suddenly look like you have a terminal illness?"
"Will that Taoist priest really be able to cure you? Maybe we should call 120 (emergency services)."
"Let's go outside. This place doesn't look like a place where people can be seen. It's kind of weird."
Wen Zhaoye was easily carried on her back. Her scent filled his nostrils and body. Wen Zhaoye leaned close to her ear and spoke very softly, almost in a breath.
"I'm fine, I'll be alright soon."
"You're still not alright?!" Wen Zhuo said angrily. "I'm packing you up and throwing you into the hospital right now! I'll forget about that Taoist priest!"
"Wait for him, let him see your injury."
"I'll also get you a psychiatric appointment while I'm at it."
Wen Zhaoye looked puzzled and nuzzled her face.
She suddenly snapped and started grumbling, "Weren't you half-dead? Why are you moving around? You're so heavy you wouldn't even know what to eat."
She paused for a moment, then asked, "Have you eaten anything these past few days?"
She discovered that she had no memory of Wen Zhaoye eating in the past few days. Every time she finished drinking the blood, she would run away and never had a chance to see if he continued to cook. She was a ghost and couldn't smell the aroma of human food. In addition, because she couldn't eat, she would deliberately avoid it so as not to be unable to eat when she was craving it.
Wen Zhaoye did not reply. Wen Zhuo had already carried him out of the room and down the stairs.
She turned her head to look at him anxiously, "Don't die!"
But they found that Wen Zhaoye's eyes were still open, but he didn't say anything.
Wen Zhuo: "......" Is now the time for you to play dumb?
"What did you use to save me yesterday? It wasn't blood, was it?" Wen Zhuo's face unusually serious.
She recalled the large burn marks on her back caused by the sun, which were completely healed in just one night. That night was an ordinary night, not a special occasion, so it was impossible for her yin energy to be replenished inexplicably.
"Did you use your own blood?" Wen Zhuo asked.
Wen Zhaoye buried his face in Wen Zhuo's neck. The bluish-black light in his eyes had eased considerably, and the weakness in his body had also subsided somewhat. He had only fainted, and he had only used a little blood.
She placed Wen Zhaoye on the sofa on the first floor, and as she finished speaking, a voice rang out along with the sound of the door opening: "Of course!"
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