Chapter 39 I am the wife.
"According to the latest information from the Hamajima Warning Center, Typhoon Uze will officially make landfall on the island around 7:35 PM tonight, with maximum winds near the center reaching over 10. Citizens are advised to refrain from venturing out and follow relevant precautionary guidelines..."
The radio broadcast in the car was interrupted, and the navigation popped up to prompt that the destination [Pingzhuang Mental Hospital] had been reached.
The driver had just parked the car by the roadside and was about to remind the passengers in the back seat to get out, but when he turned around he heard the sound of the car door opening and closing, and a brand new cash was placed on the seat.
The driver took the cash, checked it, and looked out the window with a strange look on his face.
It was a cloudy day when a typhoon was approaching. The place was surrounded by mountains, with only one mountain road leading in and out, and a mental hospital standing at the foot of the mountain.
The driver rubbed his eyes, confirming that the masked girl was heading to the mental hospital. He couldn't help but mutter, "It's a typhoon, is she here to visit her family?"
After he finished speaking, another gust of wind came howling. The driver felt even more frightened and quickly started the car and drove away from the mountainous area.
At the same time, in the mental hospital.
"Damn it, is this idiot going to leave or not? The typhoon is coming soon. How long is he going to stay here carving that broken stone?"
A middle-aged man cursed and rolled up his sleeves, about to rush into the lawn yard to beat someone up, but another caregiver quickly stopped him and said:
"Hey, Director, please just leave him alone. Boss He and his wife have already said, just give him a meal every day and let this idiot fend for himself here! We've tried everything we can to persuade him, but he insisted on staying outside. If he gets killed by a tree during a typhoon, it's his own fault, right?"
After hearing this, the man's expression finally eased a little. He snorted in annoyance and asked the nurse to take him away.
Shang Youqing leaned against the guardrail with his hands folded, his chin carelessly supported by his fingertips, and looked in the direction where the man had just cursed.
At the foot of the climbing trellis under the tree on the lawn, a tall and thin boy was curled up on an old chair, with his head lowered, holding a rough stone and carving something.
The raindrops were swept by the wind and fluttered in all directions. The boy's slightly long hair on his forehead was wet, but he didn't care. He still kept his eyes down and carved his stone carefully.
If she had not been able to see through her spiritual sense that her spiritual roots were indeed present in the thin body of the young man in the hospital gown, Shang Youqing would have really doubted what the ancestor of Tiandao had said to her on Wutong Mountain.
Her spiritual roots were actually left in the body of such a foolish young man.
Shang Youqing looked up at the dark cloud-covered sky again, thought for a moment, and finally put down his hand and turned into an ordinary little bird and flew away.
The muffled thunder was still rumbling intermittently. Shang Youqingqi sat on the stone in the boy's hand, tilted his head slightly, and wanted to see clearly what the boy was carving.
And the moment she flew down, He Cong's pale fingers holding the carving knife seemed to freeze, and he looked at the little bird on the stone in his hand in a daze.
A few drops of rain fell on the little bird's long tail feathers with a faint green hue. The little bird shook its thin and soft wings, and the raindrops fell along the smooth and beautiful feathers into the boy's slender and thin fingers.
Shang Youqing was still standing proudly on the stone, sniffing and exploring, when she suddenly felt the fur on her belly slightly inward, and she was picked up by the boy's cold fingers.
Shang Youqing immediately raised his phoenix pupils with a slightly sharp look and made a presumptuous "chirp" sound.
The next second, the boy carefully placed her in the hem of his clothes. His dark eyes, soaked in moisture, turned around slowly before he moved. He raised his other hand and held it above the hem of his clothes, trying to shield her from the wind and rain.
“…”
Shang Youqing reluctantly stopped asking him because it was difficult for him.
However, as the typhoon drew closer to land on the island, the rain became heavier, the climbing frame above our heads became shaky, and the branches swung violently.
Shang Youqing was held in the boy's arms and embraced in his clothes, leisurely licking his slightly wet feathers. Before retrieving his spiritual roots, he wanted to see how this guy would die on a typhoon-stormy night.
"rain."
The young man looked at the raindrops dripping from his fingers with stupid and cold eyes, and kept repeating the word "rain" in his mouth.
Shang Youqing shook his feathers impatiently again, feeling a little impatient and thinking that he might as well take action now.
As soon as the thought came to his mind, the boy suddenly stood up from under the creaking and shaking climbing frame.
Before Shang Youqing could react, his vision went dark and the boy's cold, thin hand stuffed his hand into his hospital gown, pressing it against his slightly undulating waist and abdomen.
Shang Youqing felt as if the whole world was shaking, and then she realized that it was the young man who was running with her in his arms.
An unknown amount of time had passed, but when Shang Youqing felt a little dizzy and fell into the boy's palm, the world finally stopped shaking, and Shang Youqing was carried out from under the hem of his hospital gown by the boy.
In the dim, damp and cold ward, the young man squatted by the bed, holding Shang Youqing in his arms, and wiped Shang Youqing's wet feathers bit by bit with a clean handkerchief.
Shang Youqing looked up at the boy's eyes that were staring at her quietly and intently, and her wings, which were about to spread out, drooped again.
But at this moment, thunder and lightning flashed outside the window, accompanied by a loud bang, and the entire mental hospital was completely without power.
As the saying goes, when the night is dark and the wind is strong, if we don’t act now, when will we act?
In the pitch-black darkness, Shang Youqing proudly spread his wings and prepared to transform.
With a "bang", the ward was illuminated by a weak flame.
Shang Youqing raised her head warily and saw the young man found a candle from somewhere, lit it at the head of the bed, and carried her to the place with the best light. Even though his fingers were so cold, he still covered her fingers and said, "It's not dark anymore."
Shang Youqing's wings fluttered a few times again, and she wanted to struggle out of the palm of the hand, but the young man thought she was frozen. He seemed to think for a while with his eyes lowered, then he rolled up his quilt to build a small nest, picked her up and put her in it.
Shang Youqing: “…”
Forget it, let’s wait until the fool falls asleep before taking action.
On a stormy night, in the hospital ward lit by a faint fire, Shang Youqing lazily leaned against the small nest built for her by the young man and dozed off.
Only when he heard the breath of the young man on the bed gradually falling asleep did Shang Youqing transform back into human form.
In order to facilitate her movements, she sat with her legs crossed on both sides of the boy's body.
The veil obscured Shang Youqing's expression. She leaned over and slowly unbuttoned the boy's white neck one by one with her fingerless-gloved hands.
Soon, the hems of the clothes were scattered to both sides.
The cold leather on the back of his fingers caressed the boy's beautifully curved collarbone, the well-defined chest and abdomen, and finally reached the underside of his ribs, separated by a thin layer of tough skin...
The human boy's body was even more beautiful and clean than she had imagined.
There were obviously many man-made scars on his body, both new and old, but Shang Youqing only felt a little sorry, just like seeing the traces of breakage on a beautiful porcelain.
She gently stroked the thin, hot skin on the side of the boy's ribs, and a ray of light gradually gathered at her fingertips, which moved closer to the small curved bone where her spiritual root grew.
However, just as she was about to pull out the spiritual root, Shang Youqing's finger was unexpectedly bounced back by the clear light that she had just tried to inject into the boy's skin.
"What's going on..."
Shang Youqing murmured softly, rubbed his burning fingertips, touched the boy's ribs again, and used his spiritual sense to study it carefully.
Soon, Shang Youqing finally discovered something wrong.
Perhaps due to the passage of time, his spiritual roots had unknowingly become entangled and rooted in the boy's bones and flesh. If forcibly separated, the spiritual roots would wither and die in an instant.
By then it won't just be a matter of damaging the spiritual roots.
She suddenly remembered what the old man Tiandao had said to her before she left the mountain...
The old man said that if the spiritual root is difficult to take out, it must not be extracted by force. The best and most harmless way is to obtain the boy's only love. The more nutrients the spiritual root absorbs from the boy's love for her, the easier it will be to extract it back.
At that time, Shang Youqing didn't take it seriously and didn't have the patience to play house with humans. He just wanted to get down the mountain quickly, find the boy directly, extract the spiritual root simply and roughly, and then go back to Wutong Mountain to lie down and be done with it.
But the facts before us now, like the heavy rain outside the window, suddenly woke Shang You up from his coldness.
She ripped off the mask on her face in a somewhat depressed mood, pressed the location of the spiritual root that was clearly within her reach, and took a deep breath.
She just wanted to get her spiritual roots back. Was it necessary to make things so complicated?
Just as she was thinking in annoyance, Shang Youqing's fingers on the boy's skin suddenly moved. She slowly lowered her eyes and clearly saw that her waist and abdomen were slightly sunken by the heat through the fabric.
In the room with flickering candlelight, the young man was lying on the hospital bed. He opened his eyes at some point and stared at her face without blinking. The more he looked, the redder the corners of his eyes became, and his breathing became more irregular and heavy.
Shang Youqing looked at his reaction after he got up, then looked at his dumbfounded look, and suddenly couldn't help laughing, "Does it look good?"
The boy didn't move, as if he had forgotten to breathe, and just replied blankly: "It looks good."
Shang Youqing bent her legs and slightly pressed against his waist, deliberately teasing the fool, "Then how about becoming He Cong's wife?"
The boy was still looking at her, as if he didn't understand, but was trying hard to understand the word "wife".
Shang Youqing was not in a hurry either. She calmly helped him to free himself, and taught and controlled him step by step.
At the same time, her eyes clearly saw that the boy's fair and cold face was stained with a thin layer of hot red, along with the rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest and his Adam's apple moving slightly.
Suddenly, the young man opened his thin lips slightly and grabbed Shang Youqing's hand.
When Shang Youqing let go of her hand, she was amused to find that the boy's eyelashes trembled. After a while, a few wet tears fell from the corners of his thin red eyes, as if he had really been bullied by her.
She smeared the contents of her hand on his depressed and heaving waist and abdomen, glanced at it lazily, and said softly: "Dirty dog."
Then, she gently kicked him away with her slender legs and sat back on the edge of the bed.
Hearing the boy still trying to calm his breath, he couldn't help laughing, "Did I really make you cry?"
The boy's face flushed. After a while, he pursed his lips and sat up without saying a word. In the dim candlelight, he opened his moist eyes and said, "It's not dirty."
Shang Youqing: "What?"
He Cong repeated: "It's not dirty."
Shang Youqing turned around and looked at the boy's wet eyes. She thought helplessly in her heart, okay, just spend some time playing with this human. When he falls in love with her, she will take back the spiritual root and return to Wutong Mountain.
It just requires a little more effort.
Shang Youqing was still thinking about how to coax this fool, when the fool suddenly grabbed her fingers and examined them one by one. As he looked, he seemed to remember that her hand had just held his... His eyelashes trembled slightly again.
Shang Youqing glanced at him, his eyebrows raised slightly, "What are you reminiscing about, little dirty dog?"
The young man raised his head, the blush on his face still not completely fading, and his thin lips moved stiffly, "Just like in my dream, beautiful."
Shang Youqing was stunned for a moment, then reacted.
She said, why wasn't this idiot startled by her sudden appearance in the middle of the night, but was staring at her in a daze. It turned out that he had dreamed of her a long time ago.
That's right, her spiritual roots have been left in him for who knows how long, so it's normal for a fool to dream about her appearance.
Thinking of this, Shang Youqing couldn't help but narrow his eyes, "Then do you know who I am?"
The young man seemed to be stuck, his mouth moved but he couldn't answer.
Shang Youqing reached out and touched his hairy head, then began to brainwash him: "I am your wife."
He Cong watched her lips move and imitated seriously: "Wife..."
He reviewed himself again, "Old, wife."
Reinforced again, "Wife."
"What a smart puppy." Shang Youqing's fingers were soft under his half-gloves. He pressed down the dog's messy fur and started praising it.
He Cong looked at her as if he was watching an unreal dream, and belatedly wrapped his hands around her fingers.
"What's wrong?"
Just like every time he woke up from his dream, He Cong complained: "Every time the sun comes up, my wife disappears."
Shang Youqing reached out and turned the boy's face, looking him over carefully and asking, "Do you often dream about me?"
He Cong thought seriously for a long time, so long that Shang Youqing almost withdrew his hand. Only then did he lower his chin, press his lips against Shang Youqing's leather gloves, and mumbled, "Not often. It hurts a lot after taking the medicine, and I can't sleep. Only when the pain isn't there, I dream about... my wife."
He Cong pronounced the last two words very standardly and smoothly.
Shang Youqing extracted the key information from his illogical answer, which was that the medicine He Cong took caused him great pain, and he took the medicine frequently, so even getting a good night's sleep was a luxury.
This is obviously abnormal.
Shang Youqing narrowed her eyes. So this is the key reason why her spiritual roots are being damaged?
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