Early the next morning, in the remote courtyard of Luo Qingwu at Luo-Fu.
The air was thick with a strong, almost pungent, smell of alcohol.
A makeshift distillation apparatus bubbled and steamed, clear liquid dripping down a bamboo tube drop by drop.
Luo Qingwu shook the bamboo tube in her hand, looking at the clear, high-proof alcohol inside, and smiled like a villain.
“Though I don’t have testing tools, this concentration should be around seventy-five percent, right? That’ll do!”
She wasn’t a doctor and didn’t know how to cure or save people. But that didn’t stop her from being a vengeful chemistry master’s graduate.
Last night, that bastard had the nerve to disgust her with his mouth, and it might even have been a deliberate humiliation to force her to break off the engagement.
She couldn’t swallow this anger.
“Lin Lang, oh Lin Lang,” Luo Qingwu looked at the alcohol in her hand, “I’ll use this alcohol to disinfect your wound, guaranteed to make your soul leave your body.”
This was the carefully prepared return gift she had for him.
Just as she was thinking this, gossipy voices from servants outside the courtyard wall drifted in: “Hey, have you heard? The one from the General’s Manor seems to be on his last legs.”
“What happened? Wasn’t he fine yesterday when the Second Young Lady went to see him?”
“Who knows? Several rounds of doctors have been in and out. They say he somehow developed a high fever, burning up like a piece of charcoal… If he dies before she even marries in, wouldn’t the one who was just recognized end up a widow before the wedding?”
Luo Qingwu’s movements paused.
The one who was just recognized? Her?
Who was on his last legs? Lin Lang?
Instantly, the image of that man’s agile figure under the moonlight last night flashed in her mind, along with that aggressive kiss.
“Weren’t you pretty wild last night when you climbed the wall like a flower thief? How did you become so weak after just one night?”
Luo Qingwu scoffed, but her brows furrowed tightly.
Dead?
That wouldn’t do.
If he died, who would she marry? How would she become the General’s wife? How would she infuriate Luo Jin’er half to death?
“Forget it, I’ll go check first. Don’t let him really burn out so easily.”
As night fell, Luo Qingwu tucked away the bottle of high-proof liquor, skillfully climbed over the wall, and slipped into the General’s Manor.
…
Inside the bedroom of the General’s Manor, the light was dim.
Xiao Junhe lay on the bed, his face flushed, his breathing scorching.
That bone-deep craving was raging through his body like wildfire. It wasn’t an illness but an addiction akin to being poisoned by a gu—an addiction to that woman’s touch.
Ever since tasting it last night, his body had been clamoring insatiably.
“Your Highness, she’s entered,” an Anwei transmitted a message through secret means.
Xiao Junhe’s eyelids twitched slightly. Suppressing the clarity in his eyes, he put on the appearance of someone delirious with high fever.
The trap he set tonight wasn’t just to satisfy his craving but also to add another ladle of oil to this fire.
“Creak—”
The window was pushed open, letting in a gust of cold wind.
Luo Qingwu jumped into the room and walked to the bedside in a few steps.
“Hey, still alive?” She waved her hand in front of his eyes.
No response.
She reached out to touch his forehead. The temperature transmitted through her fingertips was frighteningly hot.
“This hot?” Luo Qingwu wondered inwardly. Could the wound really be infected and festering?
She yanked off the quilt and roughly pulled open his collar.
By the candlelight, she saw that the wound extending from his shoulder blade, though fierce-looking, wasn’t red, swollen, or oozing pus. It had even begun to scab and heal.
“Strange…”
Luo Qingwu poked the edge of the wound with her finger. “It’s not inflamed, so why is the fever this severe?”
Could it be the flu? Or some acute virus?
As a non-medical professional, this was beyond her knowledge.
But as a modern person with basic common sense, she knew that a persistent high fever could damage the brain.
“Fine, let’s treat a dead horse as if it were alive.”
She glanced at the warm water on the table, then at the high-concentration alcohol in her hand.
She was familiar with the principle that alcohol evaporates and absorbs heat.
Luo Qingwu poured some alcohol into the basin, soaked a cloth, and began wiping his body.
The slightly cool cloth moved down from his burning neck, and Luo Qingwu couldn’t help but swallow.
It had to be said, this man was exceptionally well-endowed.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, full but not exaggerated pectoral muscles, and well-defined abdominal muscles with smooth lines. Even in his current sickly state, the explosive power contained within those muscles was captivating.
As she wiped, Luo Qingwu’s hands began to wander.
While vigorously wiping his chest and openly taking advantage, she inwardly complained with disdain, “Tsk, the figure is good, and the texture is smooth. What a pity—he’s a blind man who doesn’t want to marry me.”
“I wonder if Luo Jin’er has touched this body too… Ew, dirty, dirty.”
Though she complained about it being “dirty,” her hands honestly lingered a little longer on his firm abs, even pressing down mischievously.
Hmm, hard and elastic.
Just as her hand slid down from his abs, preparing to wipe his inner thighs to speed up heat dissipation, a burning hand suddenly grabbed her wrist!
Luo Qingwu was startled and looked up.
Xiao Junhe’s eyes were tightly shut, his brows furrowed as if trapped in an extremely painful nightmare.
He gripped her hand so tightly it felt like he might crush her wrist bones.
“Why…”
A hoarse, broken voice escaped his throat, filled with deep confusion and resentment.
Luo Qingwu tried to pull her hand back, but it didn’t budge. “Hey, let go! I’m treating you!”
But Xiao Junhe seemed completely unaware. He struggled in his nightmare, intermittently growling:
“Lord Luo… I… have always been loyal to the country… never had any disloyal thoughts…”
Luo Qingwu froze abruptly.
Lord Luo? Her father, Luo Yuandao?
Xiao Junhe suddenly opened his eyes. Though they were directed at her, they were unfocused, as if looking through her at someone else. He abruptly sat up, pulling the unprepared Luo Qingwu close until their noses almost touched.
“Tell me!”
His eyes were bloodshot, like a cornered beast, his voice hoarse and desperate:
“Why… did you ambush me? Why… must you put me to death?!”
Boom—!
These words struck Luo Qingwu like a thunderbolt, hitting her squarely on the head.
Her pupils contracted sharply, and her entire body felt as if it had plunged into an icy abyss.
Ambush?
Put to death?
Her father, Luo Yuandao, actually wanted to kill Lin Lang?
Luo Qingwu’s mind exploded with a “buzz,” countless thoughts swirling chaotically!
Something was wrong! This was all wrong!
Since they were already engaged, why would Luo Yuandao want to kill his own son-in-law?
Unless… it was to silence him!
Luo Yuandao was about to be promoted and transferred to Jingcheng. Lin Lang must have held some dirt on him! Only the dead could keep secrets!
Luo Qingwu gasped sharply, feeling a chill run down her spine.
I understand! I understand everything!
What substitute marriage? What returning to the family roots? It’s all a smokescreen!
Luo Yuandao brought her back solely to create a diversion, to lull Lin Lang’s vigilance, making it easier to take action!
If Lin Lang died, she would merely be a widow, and the Luojia would suffer no loss;
If he didn’t die… just like now!
Luo Qingwu looked at the man brimming with murderous intent before her, her heart pounding wildly.
This is bad!
Since this man knows it was Luo Yuandao who made the move, what does he think of her, sneaking in here in the dead of night?