Chapter 51 I am a weak scholar staying at the hotel, and my wife is the most...
Her shoulder injury was painful and it was difficult for her to walk alone. Qing Guiyu was not in the mood to argue with him, so she nodded.
Under the dual pressure of constant pain and exhaustion, she relaxed a little. As the horse galloped, she leaned her head back, almost exhausted.
The arm that was holding her seemed to pause for a moment, and then held her in his arms with a softer and tighter force.
Shen Jiansheng's head, buried in the crook of her neck, seemed to push harder, and his breathing suddenly became deep and heavy, carrying a long-lasting satisfaction.
Things in the world are so strange.
The two men galloped for a while, leaving the smoke, fire, and sounds of battle far behind. Although they were still under the same night, the shadows of the trees that obscured the swords and the rustling of the wind in the earth that concealed their movements suddenly seemed natural.
The trees swayed, the wind blew, and no one lost their lives anymore.
The moonlight passed by faintly, and the long grass stems were curled with the night dew of approaching summer. Although only a few miles away from the bloody smell, the quiet fragrance of grass and trees wafted in the air.
The chaotic battle just now, which was struggling with the breath of death, seemed to be suddenly separated by invisibility, becoming blurred and distant, like a terrifying dream.
"Does it hurt?" Shen Juansheng's voice was so soft that it almost melted into the night wind. His lower jaw, which was resting against her neck, lifted up slightly, as if he wanted to check her wound, but he didn't dare to move.
Qing Guiyu did not answer, but asked him tiredly,
"Where are you going?"
Shen Juansheng hesitated for a moment, then raised his head. After a while,
"have no idea."
Then he shook his head, and his long hair, tangled with golden threads, brushed past him. Young Master Jin Sheng was momentarily stunned.
“It’s good to go anywhere.”
Alas, there is no way to explain this to him.
Qing Guiyu struggled to raise her head. "Find a place to stay," she said. "Let me take a look at the wound."
Shen Juansheng tightened the reins, the horse slowed down, and finally stopped under the sparse starlight at a fork in the road.
He dismounted and reached out to help her carefully.
Qing Guiyu's shoulder was still in severe pain, so she gritted her teeth and tried to cheer herself up.
Her body, which was gifted with the cold-weather skill, was really cold. She thought for a moment, dodged his hand, almost rolled off the horse, and staggered a few steps before she could stand firm.
When the night wind blew, her clothes, which were soaked with cold sweat and blood, stuck to her skin, and the chill she felt made her shiver uncontrollably.
Shen Juansheng's hand was still frozen in mid-air.
The warm blood on his fingertips had long since dried and solidified on his pale skin, making it more conspicuous than the red marks left by the needles.
The night wind blew through the fingers, winding along the fallen golden thread.
The hand finally withdrew very slowly and silently to his side. The dark sleeve fell, brushing away the condensed dew on the grass without making a sound.
The fork in the road led further in, ending in a small town. It was late at night, and everything was silent except for an inn with a dilapidated door lintel and a solitary, greasy, faded lantern at the door, which cast a dim, ambiguous light.
Shen Juansheng stepped forward first and knocked on the inn's wooden door, which looked flimsy.
It was nearly three o'clock in the morning.
With a creak, the door opened a crack, revealing a round face with sleepy eyes and a vigilant look. It was a proprietress in her fifties, wrapped in a faded pink shirt and holding an oil lamp in her hand.
"Who is it? It's the middle of the night..." The proprietress squinted her eyes and looked at the two people outside the door.
The man's black clothes were stained with blood, and his face was pale and beautiful, not like that of an ordinary person. The woman was even more strange, with half of her shoulder wet with dark stains, her face was as pale as paper, but her eyes were surprisingly bright, and quite stubborn. Both of them exuded a strong smell of blood and gunpowder.
"Stay in the hotel." Shen Juansheng spoke in a gentle and clear voice, and the cold and murderous tone of Mr. Jinsheng was instantly suppressed.
"My wife was frightened and tired during the journey, and she has a shoulder injury. I would like to ask you to find a clean room upstairs for her to stay in."
When the word "wife" came out, Qing Guiyu almost couldn't help but poke his waist with the bamboo flute.
She raised her head and glared at him, but saw that his expression was normal, as if he was stating a very natural fact. His peach-like eyes even showed just the right amount of worry and pity for his wife.
The proprietress glanced back and forth between the two of them with suspicion.
In the area where the Northern Frontier and the Southern Dynasty intersect, there are many guests with blood on their hands, but as for this couple, the man is weirdly handsome, and the woman is horribly injured. The atmosphere is even more weird, and it is hard to tell whether they are in love or enemies.
"This..." The proprietress hesitated, her eyes fixed on the dark spot on Qing Guiyu's shoulder. "Madam is seriously injured. I hope she hasn't gotten into any trouble..."
"Well," Shen Juansheng turned slightly to the side, hiding Qing Guiyu behind him without leaving any trace, and said gently,
"To be honest, mother, I was lucky enough to have recently achieved fame and was planning to bring my wife to Beijing to reunite with us, but I didn't expect that my wealth and belongings would be exposed on the way and I was robbed by bandits."
He reached out his hand and gently stroked Qing Guiyu's cheek, tucking her messy, sweaty hair behind her ears. His movements were natural and intimate, as if they had been rehearsed a thousand times.
"The strong men saw that my wife was so pretty and lovely and wanted to take advantage of her. My wife naturally refused. When she started to struggle, the thugs threatened to kill me."
The young man in black clothes had disheveled black hair and looked pitiful. He sighed and looked towards her with a look of embarrassment and guilt.
"It's a pity that I'm just a weak scholar, powerless, and my wife loves me the most. Seeing that I was about to get hurt, she rushed to protect me with her own body..."
His expression remained unchanged, and his lies flowed smoothly, were rich in details, and were full of sincerity. Qing Guiyu stood in the shadows beside him, stunned as she listened.
If we talk about tonight,
"Desire to act frivolously" can barely be considered as true.
"Threatening with one's life" is a foregone conclusion.
Originally, if a couple stayed overnight like this, it would save a lot of trouble for questioning. If it were Qing Guiyu herself, she would probably have to make the same excuse when traveling around the world.
But he subtly added a lot of weird stuff in it.
As Chen Juansheng spoke, he stole glances at her with a look of affection, looking like a young official from an inexperienced official family who was extremely affectionate with his wife.
But after running around in the middle of the night, the pain and blood loss made her extremely exhausted, so she had no extra energy to talk to him.
So she leaned towards him and gently rested her forehead on his slightly cool back.
Shen Juansheng suddenly fell silent. His entire body stiffened instantly, even holding his breath, without the slightest movement.
The warmth from her forehead was clearly transmitted through the not-so-thick fabric, along with the tiny gasps she suppressed deep in her throat due to the pain.
Qing Guiyu closed his eyes and leaned all his weight on the slightly cool dark color.
She wasn't completely faking it; the weakness caused by the blood loss and severe pain was not fake at all.
But this sudden reliance and silence could be considered as cooperation to some extent. It was the only and most labor-saving disguise she could think of at the moment.
I could feel the stiffness of his body and the slight trembling through his clothes, and I felt irritated but also a little relieved.
Forget it, she thought to herself, at least at this moment, he was really afraid that she would fall down.
The door closed heavily behind him, and he pulled the bolt with a deep voice. The small room of the inn was filled with the smell of years of dust, cheap lamp oil, and the smell of blood that could not be concealed from their bodies.
He lit up a tiny lamp, and the dim light barely filled a small space.
Qing Guiyu leaned almost exhaustedly on the edge of the seemingly unreliable bed, his back against the cold wood, his underwear soaked with cold sweat, sticking sticky to his skin.
She took a deep breath and tried to gather her scattered spirit.
The black-robed young man stood in the center of the room, his back to her, head bowed, like an overly refined statue of a beauty abandoned in the wilderness. A dazed silence lingered around him, even the dangling gold threads seemed to have frozen their flowing luster.
Qing Guiyu was bewildered. Since they met again in Yuzhou, there had been countless battles of swords and lives. Now that he had a rare moment to breathe, he felt as if all his bones and muscles had been pulled out. He didn't know what to do.
She suddenly remembered that she was the one who was talking to that young man in the medicine house.
Really helpless,
"Come here." She had no choice but to say to Shen Juansheng, thinking to herself that there was actually a moment when she needed his help.
Shen Juansheng's body trembled slightly when he heard the sound. He turned slowly, the light from the lamp dancing on his handsome profile.
He walked up to her, leaned down, and with a slight trembling of his cold fingertips, he gently hooked the edge of the blood-soaked, half-solidified fabric on her shoulder.
"Hiss--", the cloth sticky with solidified blood clots was pulled, Qing Guiyu gasped in pain, his body shrank suddenly, and he instinctively wanted to escape from the cold touch.
Shen Juansheng's movements froze instantly, as if he had been stabbed hard.
He pulled his hand away suddenly, as if struck by an invisible whip. His black hair fell, covering most of his face, revealing only his tightly pursed, bloodless lips.
The air was stagnant for a moment, with only the suppressed breathing of the two people and the crackling sound of the burning oil lamp wick.
He stood there stiffly, the gold thread wrapped around his wrist seeping out little bits of blood, which overlapped with the dark red bloodstains that had just been stained on him, which belonged to her.
"Hurry up!" Qing Guiyu gritted his teeth. This wasn't healing at all; it was clearly torture.
She was so angry that she wanted to kill someone. It turned out that a person who didn't know what pain was was the worst and most torturous doctor in the world!
The young man slowly raised his head, his expression revealing a sadness and melancholy.
He no longer tried to touch her wound directly, but carefully picked up the golden thread wrapped around her wrist with his fingertips.
He picked up the end of the cold, flexible gold thread and gently, bit by bit, peeled away the pieces of clothing stuck to the wound.
The movements were so delicate that they were almost affectionate and lingering, and each peeling was accompanied by suppressed breathing.
In this silence where only the breathing sounds of the two of them were heard, Shen Juansheng's gentle voice suddenly rang out.
"Miss Qing's hand injury back then..." He paused, his fingertips froze for a moment.
"No matter what method I thought of or how I asked, you never dared to tell me."
He sighed softly, dealt with the last bit of sticky fabric, and stood up.
The drifting clouds of the night just happened to brush past the waning moon outside the window, and the already scarce moonlight seeped in through the cracks in the window frame, making his pale face even more hazy.
His eyes moved over her arm, which was trembling slightly with pain, and finally, slowly fell on her hand.
Chen Juansheng stretched out his other hand, and his cold fingertips slowly and tentatively covered the back of her hand.
It was so cold that it felt like a poisonous snake was coiled around it.
He stared blankly at the hand that touched her, and spoke softly.
"What can I do? But now I know." His fingers stroked the hideous and winding old scar under her shoulder, passing over the glittering golden line.
"This is the trace of the icy internal energy," he lowered his eyelashes and said quietly, "Miss Qing doesn't know the cold energy, it was Lu Baiyi who treated her."
"……Yes or no?"
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