Liang Yuzhou was right beside her, half - reclined against the soft pillow, staring at her intently without blinking.
Song Wanchu didn't know which thing to get angry about first. Was it being knocked out by Taoist Priest Qiu and forcibly taken to Songhe Temple, or waking up to find herself lying in Liang Yuzhou's bed?
A lock of her hair was twined around his finger, coiling round and round, like the intricate and endless feelings.
"You're awake?"
After coughing all night, Liang Yuzhou's voice was even more hoarse and deep than usual.
It was like sand slowly rubbing against Song Wanchu's ears.
Song Wanchu stared at him in astonishment.
In her memory, Liang Yuzhou was always full of energy. Even when he was frustrated and down, his strength and pride remained unchanged.
He had been diligent in his practice since childhood, never slacking off for a single day. He had solid kung - fu skills and didn't indulge in wine and women, so he was in excellent health. Except for the time when she saw him having a fever on the school training ground, Song Wanchu had never seen him sick.
Liang Yuzhou's paleness and weakness far exceeded Song Wanchu's imagination.
He was like a fragile and breakable white marble sculpture, with a morbid and overly - thoughtful melancholy and exhaustion.
His jet - black eyes were slightly absent - minded, like a flickering candle in the dark night, unsure where to shine, and on the verge of being blown out by the wind at any moment.
He just stared at her quietly, the ink - like color surging in his eyes. His black hair was loose, intertwined with her long hair.
As her emotions gradually calmed down, Song Wanchu cold - facedly tried to get out of bed.
"Where is Suyue?"
Her slender wrist was suddenly grabbed. Song Wanchu was burned by the warmth of his palm.
"She's resting in the next room."
A faint sense of loss welled up in Liang Yuzhou's heart. Although he didn't want her to see his sickly appearance, since she had already seen it, there was a tiny expectation in his heart that he might see a bit of pity in her eyes.
But there was none. The first thing she said when she woke up was to ask about her maid.
He should have been used to Wanchu's indifference and disregard for him, but every time he faced her coldness, he still couldn't convince himself.
He once had such a wonderful Wanchu who was nervous about him, cared about him, prayed for him every day, and couldn't sleep at night because of him...
It was all his own fault that he had ruined it.
Liang Yuzhou was holding her injured hand. Song Wanchu was furious and tried to pry his fingers off.
The man's two fingertips casually landed on her pulse.
Song Wanchu was stunned. This standard pulse - taking gesture...
Could it be that he really knew medical skills?
Liang Yuzhou stared at her face and said softly, "You didn't sleep well last night. Did you have a nightmare?"
Song Wanchu's pupils dilated. How did he know?
She had that nightmare all because of him. He haunted her even in her dreams.
"Do you know medical skills?" Her tone was stiff.
Liang Yuzhou showed a bitter smile. "Constant illness makes one a doctor."
Once again, there was that stinging feeling in her heart, like a sharp thorn piercing into the flesh, impossible to pull out and unbearable to touch.
Her eyes involuntarily moved down along his gaunt cheeks.
There was a charcoal fire burning in the room. Since he had a high fever, he was only wearing a nightgown with the chest part open. Above his heart, there was an obvious scar.
It was exactly the same as the scar on her heart.
Was it the sword she had stabbed that made him suffer from lung disease and often cough up blood?
Her throat seemed to be blocked by a stone. She didn't dare to ask for fear that she would choke up.
Liang Yuzhou didn't seem to expect her to ask either.
He held her hand. "You're injured?"
His palm was like a piece of red - hot charcoal, making Song Wanchu's back of the hand tingle.
He was burning with fever like this, yet he could still talk to her clearly. How on earth did he manage to hold on?
Song Wanchu's heart was trembling slightly.
Steadying her mind, she told Liang Yuzhou everything that had happened just now.
Liang Yuzhou wasn't very surprised. "I knew that girl couldn't hold back. Fortunately, she met you."
Although he regarded Shi Luohan as an enemy, he believed that Shi Luohan wouldn't make things difficult for Yaoguang. Shi Luohan still had that much integrity.
He gently rubbed Song Wanchu's fingertips with his rough fingertips. "I'm sorry, Wanchu. I made you get hurt."
The shivering sensation quickly spread from her fingers to her whole body. Song Wanchu forcefully pulled her hand back.
But Liang Yuzhou suddenly got up, knelt on the bed with his upper body, and grabbed the back of her neck.
His hot breath, mixed with the bitterness of the medicine, blew on her face.
Liang Yuzhou pressed the back of her neck towards himself until their noses touched and their breaths intertwined.
"Liang Yuzhou, don't you understand what propriety is!"
She tried to push his shoulders but was instead hugged tightly in his arms. His two arms were like entwined vines, tightly holding her waist.
"I just want to hug you. Just one hug."
His voice sounded so fragile as he pleaded desperately.
It was like a piece of cold jade had slipped into his arms, instantly dispelling the heat from his body. Liang Yuzhou let out a long sigh, his breathing faintly restrained.
Song Wanchu's body was stiff. Since she couldn't push him away, she had no choice but to close her eyes and resign herself.
He was sick. She wouldn't argue with him this time. If there was a next time, she would definitely slap him.
Liang Yuzhou really just hugged her. He kept his word, like an obedient child.
His hot breath burned her ears and neck. As the temperature gradually spread, her body involuntarily softened.
"When you go to the Yue family, say whatever you want. If they make excessive demands and make you unhappy, you can overturn the table if you want. You don't need to take responsibility for the consequences."
Liang Yuzhou's voice, like sandpaper, slowly rang in her ear.
Song Wanchu wanted to ask what he meant by "overturn the table". Was she that kind of wild and rude woman?
But his words stirred up ripples in her heart.
She could do whatever she wanted. He didn't stop her but instead gave her the confidence.
But her elder brother just wanted her to be obedient and hide behind him.
An inexplicable sense of sourness spread in her heart.
She should be more heartless.
"Liang Yuzhou, I've never asked you to help me. I won't be grateful for whatever you do for me."
"I don't need your gratitude. It's only natural for me to protect you."
"We're already over."
"Not in my heart. As long as I'm alive, it will never be over."
Song Wanchu was defeated by his stubbornness. She felt discouraged and then comforted herself that there was no need to argue with him.
"Whatever you want."
"Yeah, I'm happy to."
Song Wanchu really wanted to mercilessly mock him. Liang Yuzhou, oh Liang Yuzhou, are you still the noble and aloof heir of the Duke's Mansion?
"Wanchu, don't marry Shi Luohan."
Song Wanchu was so angry that she laughed instead. "Why should I listen to you? What right do you have to question me?"
— What right do you have to question me? This was once what Liang Yuzhou had mocked her with, and now she was throwing it back at him.
Liang Yuzhou's hot palm caressed her cheek. "You won't be happy if you marry him."
A fleeting and indescribable emotion flashed across Song Wanchu's eyes.
"You can't sacrifice yourself just to fulfill him. The rest of your life is long. You may not care about your own happiness, but I do."
The hot breath fluttered between their lips.
"Stinky boy, kiss her! Kiss her quickly!"
Taoist Priest Qiu was peeping through the window slit, stamping his feet anxiously.
"Stinky old Taoist, you're no hermit. You're just a kidnapper!"
Taoist Priest Qiu's ears were buzzing from the scolding.
He turned his head and saw Suyue's round face with her eyes wide open.
Her scolding reached the room.
The momentary ambiguity was shattered like this.
Song Wanchu pushed his shoulders and took three steps back.
Liang Yuzhou had been holding on with sheer willpower until now. Looking at Song Wanchu's cold eyes and eyebrows, blood spurted out of his mouth.