Chapter 18
The wind in the latter half of the night carried a chill as it seeped through the cracks in the window, causing the flame of the oil lamp to flicker and cast ghostly shadows on the wall.
Su Zhelan's breathing suddenly became erratic. At first, his eyelashes trembled uneasily, like butterfly wings wet with rain. Then, his body began to convulse unconsciously, his shoulders under the thin blanket heaved violently, and cold sweat seeped out of his forehead again, even more than during the day, quickly soaking his temples.
“…Don’t…don’t come any closer…” A soft murmur escaped from between his teeth, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded by sandpaper.
Xiao Qiyun, who was a light sleeper, was awakened by the faint resistance. In the dim light, he saw that Su Zhelan's brows were furrowed, her face was as white as paper, and her lips were bitten until they bled.
Su Zhelan's fingers frantically scratched at the bedding, as if trying to drive away something invisible, her nails almost digging into her palms. Xiao Qiyun's gaze darkened.
He moved closer and could clearly hear the sobs rolling from Su Zhelan's throat. The sound was not a painful groan, but a suppressed despair, like a dying beast licking its wounds in the dark.
Su Zhelan suddenly trembled violently, her body curled up into a ball as if she were enduring immense fear. "I don't want to... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Her intermittent murmurs pieced together a fragmented scene, and Xiao Qiyun's fingertips unconsciously tightened—the thug's words "Holy Son" from earlier that day suddenly crashed into his mind, overlapping with Su Zhelan's nightmare at this moment.
He recalled the hideous scar on the back of Su Zelan's neck... These fragments suddenly seemed to connect.
Su Zhelan's breathing became more and more rapid, her chest heaving violently, like a drowning person struggling.
Su Zhelan's voice was choked with sobs, and warm tears slid down her cheeks, soaking her pillowcase. "I was wrong..." Xiao Qiyun reached out his hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally gently placed it on Su Zhelan's sweaty forehead.
The skin beneath my palms was burning hot, a scorching heat a mixture of poison and nightmares.
He softened his voice: "Ze Lan, wake up. It's alright, I'm here." But Su Ze Lan couldn't escape the nightmare; instead, she fell into even deeper fear.
"No...it hurts..." He arched his back suddenly, the scar on the back of his neck glowing eerily red under the light. "No...I'm not..." These words made Xiao Qiyun's pupils suddenly contract.
Seeing Su Zhelan's face contorted in pain, he suppressed all his questions, gently pressing his other hand on Su Zhelan's curled-up shoulder, using a steady pressure to reassure her: "No one can hurt you. You're safe now." His voice was deep and firm, carrying an undeniable power.
Perhaps it was this sound that pierced through the barrier of nightmares, as Su Zhelan's convulsions gradually subsided, though she continued to sob, repeating "I'm sorry" and "Don't come any closer."
Xiao Qiyun kept his hand on his forehead, his fingertips gently stroking his sweaty temples, as if smoothing the wrinkles of his soul. "Sleep."
Xiao Qiyun's voice was as soft as a sigh, "It will be alright when it's dawn." Su Zhelan's breathing finally calmed down, her face still wet with tears and fear, but she stopped struggling.
The worms on the back of the neck seemed to have calmed down because of their owner's peace of mind, and no longer stirred.
Xiao Qiyun gazed at his pale sleeping face, his eyes as deep as the night. Sheng Xuan on the ground turned over, seemingly disturbed by the commotion, but did not wake up.
He withdrew his hand, his fingertips still retaining the warmth and dampness of Su Zhelan's forehead. He lay back down, but didn't close his eyes again, his gaze fixed on the scar on the back of Su Zhelan's neck, his thoughts churning.
The thugs' screams and Su Zhelan's delirious ramblings all pointed to a dark past. But for now, he chose to set aside his investigation. At least tonight, he wanted this man, who had just escaped a nightmare, to get a good night's sleep.
The wind outside the window gradually died down, leaving only the sound of their breathing in the room. Su Zhelan's brows were still slightly furrowed, but she no longer uttered any more painful murmurs. Xiao Qiyun adjusted his position, making sure Su Zhelan was leaning against him more securely, his gaze appearing exceptionally gentle in the dim light. He had plenty of patience, waiting for the day Su Zhelan would be willing to speak.
The dim oil lamp had long since burned out, and the faint morning light shone through the thickly papered windows, barely illuminating the small room. A faint smell of medicine and the lingering tension of the previous night still hung in the air.
Su Zhelan was the first to wake up.
Consciousness slowly surfaced like a sunken ship, the heaviness and soreness of the body returning first. With difficulty, she blinked, her blurred vision gradually focusing.
The first thing that catches the eye is Xiao Qiyun's handsome face, so close yet still clearly defined even in his sleep, though it carries a hint of weariness.
My mind went blank for a moment.
Immediately afterwards, fragments of chaotic memories from the previous night flooded back—the chaos of the temple fair, the excruciating pain in the back of his neck, the onset of the poison, being taken back to the inn… and in his last, hazy recollection, it seemed someone was taking care of him, their movements sometimes clumsy, sometimes gentle…
Now, he was crammed onto a narrow bed with Xiao Qiyun, Xiao Qiyun's breath even gently brushing against his forehead.
Boom! A surge of heat instantly shot from Su Zhelan's neck to his cheeks and earlobes, freezing him completely and causing him to hold his breath.
He instinctively tried to shrink back, only to find himself almost completely encircled in a small space by Xiao Qiyun's arm, which was loosely wrapped around his waist. This realization made him even more embarrassed, and his heart pounded like a drum.
Just as he frantically tried to quietly move away, his gaze inadvertently swept over Xiao Qiyun's left arm. The forearm exposed outside the thin blanket, tightly wrapped in white bandages, and the dried, darkened bloodstains faintly visible through the bandages, pierced through all his shame like a cold needle, leaving only heavy guilt and heartache.
It was because of him that Xiao Qiyun got injured.
Su Zhelan's nose tingled, and his eyes welled up slightly. Almost without thinking, with a sense of atoning pity, he reached out his cool fingers and gently, carefully, touched the deepest, bleeding mark at the edge of the bandage on Xiao Qiyun's left arm. The touch beneath his fingertips was rough and fragile, as if silently telling of the danger of the previous night and the pain Xiao Qiyun had endured for him.
This subtle touch was like a thunderclap to Xiao Qiyun, who was extremely alert.
Xiao Qiyun's eyelashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes almost instantly. His deep eyes quickly focused in the confusion of waking up, with a hint of sharpness that had not yet faded, and instinctively locked onto the source of the touch—Su Zhelan.
The scene that came into his view froze his sharp edge for a moment, and was then replaced by a more turbulent emotion.
Su Zhelan was lying on her side in front of him. Because of the movement just now, her already loose clothes had slipped open even more, revealing a large area of her pale and delicate chest and her exquisite collarbone.
In the soft morning light, his skin seemed to be bathed in a gentle glow, appearing incredibly fragile. Su Zhelan's eyes, still misty with tears and brimming with guilt and heartache, were fixed on him, her cool fingertips still lingering on the wound on his arm.
Xiao Qiyun felt a surge of heat rush to his head, making his heart race more than during any battle the night before. Su Zhelan, with her clothes half-undone, tears in her eyes, and her initiative in touching him, possessed a fatal, defenseless allure that crashed into the most hidden corner of his heart.
Almost instinctively, he suddenly raised his right hand and grabbed Su Zhelan's wrist, which was touching his wound!
"Uh!" Su Zhelan was startled by the sudden force. Her wrist was gripped so tightly that it hurt a little. She let out a short cry of surprise, and her eyes became even more watery.
Xiao Qiyun suddenly came to his senses and realized that he had overreacted. He immediately loosened his grip slightly, but did not completely let go of Su Zhelan's wrist. He simply held that slightly cool hand gently in his warm palm.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his churning blood, his voice hoarse from just waking up, yet deliberately low and gentle.
“…It’s alright.” He looked at Su Zhelan’s worried eyes, then glanced at his own left arm. “It’s just a minor injury, don’t worry.”
He paused, looking at Su Zhelan's still pale face and the weariness in her eyes, and his tone softened: "How are you feeling? Still uncomfortable? Want to rest a bit more?" He held Su Zhelan's wrist and unconsciously stroked her delicate skin gently, with a comforting and... affection that he himself was unaware of.
Just then, a rustling sound of fabric rubbing against each other came from the corner of the wall, accompanied by a long yawn that was clearly tinged with displeasure.
"yawn--!"
Sheng Xuan sat up, wrapped in a thin blanket, his hair a mess, his face pale from sleeping on the floor. He stretched, his bones cracking softly, before slowly turning his head, his eyes fixed unabashedly on the couple "clung to each other" on the bed.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Su Zhelan's half-open collar and Xiao Qiyun's hand tightly gripping Su Zhelan's wrist. His eyes darkened, then he forced a smile, speaking irritably, his voice carrying the lingering resentment of the previous night and a deliberately gruff tone:
"Hey, you're awake now? Still lingering around?" he said, roughly throwing off the thin blanket and standing up, deliberately making a rustling sound on the straw mat on the floor. "Get ready! I'm going downstairs to see if I can find a shop to get something to eat, I'm starving!"
As he walked towards the door, without turning back, he tossed out a sentence in an even more impatient tone, clearly directed at Xiao Qiyun:
"Xiao Qiyun! Stop dawdling! Hurry up and get ready! Don't expect me to take care of you after I've finished taking care of Zhelan!" With that, he slammed the door shut, his footsteps disappearing into the corridor, leaving an awkward and subtle silence in the room.
On the bed, Su Zhelan's cheeks were so red they were almost bleeding. He suddenly pulled his hand away from Xiao Qiyun's grasp, hurriedly tightened his loose clothes, and wished he could shrink into the quilt.
Looking at Su Zhelan's embarrassed expression, and listening to Sheng Xuan's obviously angry footsteps disappear at the end of the stairs, Xiao Qiyun was left alone in the room with Su Zhelan and a silence that was more subtle and even somewhat sticky than before.
Su Zhelan was still immersed in immense embarrassment and the shock of Sheng Xuan's "nauseating" comment. She huddled under the thin blanket, only her eyes showing, her gaze darting away, not daring to look at Xiao Qiyun.
Looking at Su Zhelan's expression, as if she wished she could disappear on the spot, Xiao Qiyun felt a secret pleasure rising in his heart because of Sheng Xuan's departure, which was replaced by a trace of helplessness.
"Alright, everyone's gone, why are you still hiding?" Xiao Qiyun's voice was gentler than before, with a hint of barely perceptible indulgence. He propped himself up to sit up, a dull pain shooting through the wound on his left arm from the movement, causing him to furrow his brow almost imperceptibly.
This subtle change in expression didn't escape Su Zhelan's notice. Su Zhelan's heart clenched, and the image of Xiao Qiyun shielding him last night, his arm slashed by a sharp blade, flashed vividly before his eyes again. A surge of guilt instantly overwhelmed all shame. He abruptly threw back the covers and sat up, ignoring his disheveled state, and anxiously looked at Xiao Qiyun's left arm: "Your injury...does it hurt a lot? It's all my fault..."
“I told you it was a minor injury.” Xiao Qiyun interrupted him, his tone carrying an unquestionable certainty. But when he saw the self-blame and worry that almost overflowed in Su Zhelan’s eyes, his heart felt as if it had been gently tickled by a feather, both soft and itchy.
Not wanting to continue the topic and add to Su Zhelan's burden, he changed the subject, saying, "Get up, wash your face to feel more refreshed." He pointed to a basin of water and a clean cloth placed on a low stool beside the bed.
Xiao Qiyun didn't give Su Zhelan much time to hesitate. He picked up a cloth, soaked it, and wrung it out. His movements were a little clumsy because he could only use one hand, but he remained steady.
He turned around and handed the warm, damp cloth to Su Zhelan: "Here, wipe yourself."
Su Zhelan quickly took the towel and whispered, "...Thank you." He held the warm towel and carefully wiped his cheeks and neck. The cool moisture cleared his muddled mind considerably. As he wiped, he couldn't help but steal glances at Xiao Qiyun.
Xiao Qiyun was facing away from him, awkwardly straightening his slightly wrinkled collar and cuffs with his right hand. His tall figure looked somewhat lonely in the morning light, especially his left arm, which was hanging in a sling, which was particularly eye-catching.
Su Zhelan felt as if something was gripping his heart tightly. He put down the cloth, took a deep breath, and as if he had made up his mind, his voice was not loud but unusually clear: "Your Highness... let me change your dressing."
Xiao Qiyun paused in his act of adjusting his clothes. He slowly turned around, his deep gaze falling on Su Zhelan's face with a hint of inquiry. Her clear eyes were filled with sincere guilt and an urgent desire to make amends, like two clear springs that could almost drown a person.
Xiao Qiyun's heart skipped a beat, his Adam's apple bobbed, and after a few seconds of silence, he finally just gave a soft "hmm," which was tacit approval. He walked to the bedside and sat down, extending his injured left arm toward Su Zhelan.
Su Zhelan's expression turned serious, and he deftly unwrapped the slightly loose old bandage on Xiao Qiyun's left arm. His fingers were steady and dexterous, showing no tremor even when faced with the gruesome wound, its edges red and oozing a little tissue fluid. His professionalism overcame his inner fear at that moment.
"The wound isn't deep, and there's slight redness and swelling around the edges, but no obvious signs of suppuration. It's healing fairly well." Su Zhelan's voice calmed down, carrying a professional composure, as if stating an objective fact, but the heartache deep in his eyes couldn't be completely concealed. He quickly assessed the injury, which gave him some sense of control.
He picked up a clean cloth that was prepared beside him, soaked it in clean water, wrung it out, and his movements were fluid. Then, he bent down slightly, held his breath, and began to clean the wound. His movements were precise and gentle; the cloth brushed just right across the skin around the wound, removing scabs and residual medicine powder, avoiding the delicate wound surface. He controlled his strength very well, ensuring cleanliness while minimizing the pain caused by touching it.
Xiao Qiyun could clearly feel the steady, professional force, as well as the slightly cool touch of the cloth. This was completely different from Sheng Xuan's or his own clumsy handling the previous night.
Su Zhelan's warm breath still brushed against his arm, her lowered eyelashes appearing exceptionally thick when she was focused. Looking at Su Zhelan's calm and serious profile as she instantly entered "doctor" mode, a strange feeling of being cherished spread through Xiao Qiyun's heart, deeper than simple fluttering.
The cleaning was completed efficiently. Su Zhelan picked up a new ointment, scooped out an appropriate amount with her fingertip, and without the slightest hesitation, skillfully applied the cool ointment evenly and thinly to the wound.
The fingertips inevitably touched Xiao Qiyun's skin directly, but the touch was steady and purposeful, carrying the calmness of a healer rather than a helpless tremor. However, it was precisely this calm professionalism, combined with the slightly cool touch of the fingertips and Su Zhelan's close presence, that created an even stronger contrast and allure.
Xiao Qiyun's body remained almost imperceptibly tense. He watched as Su Zhelan's fair, steady, healer-like fingers moved across his bronze, scarred arm, precisely pressing and applying ointment.
Visually, Su Zhelan's focused expression and professional demeanor possessed an almost ascetic allure; tactilely, each touch of his steady, slightly cool fingertips felt like precise taps on his taut nerves. He could clearly see Su Zhelan's lips slightly pursed in concentration, and smell the faint, refreshing scent of medicine emanating from him. This professional intimacy stirred Xiao Qiyun's heart more than any clumsy touch, and his breathing subtly deepened.
When Su Zhelan picked up the new bandage, his movements became even more swift and efficient. The bandage seemed to come alive in his hands, wrapping it neatly and securely, with just the right amount of tightness, and finally tying a clean, easy-to-untie knot. The entire dressing change process was fluid and highly efficient, fully demonstrating his skill as a physician.
"Alright." Su Zhelan breathed a sigh of relief, raised her head, and her eyes regained their clarity. But when she looked at Xiao Qiyun, her professional calmness faded and was replaced by genuine concern. "How do you feel? Will this bandage restrict your movement?" He subconsciously checked the tightness of the bandage.
Xiao Qiyun's gaze was fixed on Su Zhelan's face, shifting from the professional and calm doctor just now to the concerned and slightly shy young man in front of him.
This shift in roles gave Su Zhelan an even more captivating and contradictory aura. The slight pain in his arm had long been replaced by a strange sense of satisfaction. The professionalism and gentleness Su Zhelan displayed because of him touched Xiao Qiyun's heartstrings more than anything else.
“Very good.” Xiao Qiyun’s voice was deep and certain, with a hint of barely perceptible hoarseness. “Much better than… before.” He moved his left arm and indeed felt comfortable and stable. He looked at Su Zhelan, and the emotions surging deep in his eyes were no longer just a flutter of excitement, but also included appreciation, cherishing, and an almost greedy possessiveness.
"Thank you, Zhelan." Xiao Qiyun's voice was soft, yet carried a heavy weight. His injured arm was professionally treated by Su Zhelan, and it felt as if his heart, too, was being comfortably settled by Su Zhelan's steady and gentle hands.
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