An Yanqing seemed to have been truly intimidated by her, or at least from that point on, she ceased her resistance.
Zhong Chu applied the medicine to the red welts on her back. The ointment was icy cold, yet where Zhong Chu’s fingers spread it, the temperature was scalding.
As Zhong Chu’s fingertips traveled across her skin, she could clearly feel An Yanqing’s body tensing. Every touch elicited a faint tremor, her waist arching like a drawn bowstring.
With her knee still pressed against An Yanqing’s shoulder, Zhong Chu leaned forward, her gaze naturally falling upon her target area.
It was hard to tell which was whiter: the medicinal cream or An Yanqing’s skin. The white paste was spread evenly, covering the surface. The flamboyant, gaudy red softened slightly, transforming from a showy red rose into a supple, introverted pink rose.
But it was still breathtakingly beautiful.
Zhong Chu had intended to focus solely on applying the medicine, but at this stage, her thoughts suddenly wavered for some unknown reason.
She lost herself for a moment. Confronted with such perfection, a destructive urge—triggered by the sight of the injury—surged within her. Her fingertips, which had been methodically applying the cream, instinctively pressed harder. This was immediately followed by a restrained, muffled groan from An Yanqing.
Zhong Chu was startled herself. She quickly released her grip and looked at An Yanqing, her heart filled with chagrin and guilt. “I’m sorry, did I use too much force?”
An Yanqing’s face was buried in the duvet, so Zhong Chu couldn’t see her expression. However, she could clearly see An’s hands at her sides, clutching the edges of the blanket tightly.
An’s forearms were taut, and her slender fingers were pressed so hard they had turned white—her posture was one of extreme restraint and suppression. It was as if Zhong Chu wasn’t merely applying medicine, but engaging in something far more intimate.
Zhong Chu’s gaze froze. She held the ointment, yet seemed to have forgotten what she was supposed to do next.
An ill-timed thought flashed through her mind: An Yanqing’s current state didn’t look like someone receiving medical treatment; it looked like someone being bullied relentlessly in the heat of passion.
At this moment, An Yanqing was like a piece of exquisite, precious jade that would shatter at the slightest touch. She wanted to run but couldn’t; she wanted to hide but had nowhere to go. She could only use the bedding to hide the shimmering tears in her eyes and the uncontrollable flush at their corners.
Short gasps sounded slightly distorted through the thin duvet. An Yanqing’s voice was somewhat hoarse. “…It’s fine, keep going.”
Her voice was entirely different from her usual calm, restrained tone. The slight panting carried a hook, lightly plucking at one’s heartstrings and inviting vivid imagination.
Zhong Chu’s thoughts drifted for a brief second. Her fingers mechanically squeezed out more ointment and applied it, following her previous movements. In her heart, however, she felt that soft lips and tongue would be far more suited to An Yanqing’s body than mere fingers.
If even her back and waist were this sensitive, what would happen if someone touched the common sensitive spots, like the side of the neck or the ears?
Her mind was a mess of wandering thoughts. Looking down again, she suddenly felt that the pink rose paired with fine white jade and accompanied by blue-green bruises looked like marks left behind because she had held An Yanqing too tightly.
The three colors played off each other, highlighting an indescribable sense of eroticism.
This notion took root in Zhong Chu’s heart. When her fingers touched the skin again, An Yanqing’s warmth suddenly felt scorching, almost painful to the touch.
Her movements became increasingly slow and hesitant. An Yanqing, seemingly unable to endure this slow torture, shifted her body slightly and urged in a low voice, “Zhong Chu, hurry up, okay?”
Her voice was like a pool of spring water, carrying a hint of a plea—both sensual and alluring. To see someone usually so calm and restrained reveal such a charming, flirtatious side, her slight hoarseness tickled Zhong Chu’s very soul.
Zhong Chu had been absent-minded, and An Yanqing’s sudden movement caught her off guard. Her fingertips instinctively slid downward, trailing from the back all the way to the side of the waist.
That beautiful hand suddenly clenched tight, like a string stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any second. There was also a stifled, nearly imperceptible, broken moan.
Zhong Chu’s brain felt like it exploded. Heat rushed to her cheeks, threatening to burn her through from the inside out.
She scrambled up, not daring to look at An Yanqing for another second. “It’s done!”
The hand that had been clutching the duvet finally, slowly, relaxed.
Zhong Chu’s heart, which felt as though it were being squeezed by an invisible hand, seemed to slowly unfurl along with the stretching of those fingers.
An unknown emotion had been suppressed to the extreme, causing her to hold her breath. It took a beat for her to belatedly feel the searing pain in her chest.
It was because she had held her breath for too long.
An Yanqing didn’t get up immediately. She turned her head slightly and reached behind her to pull her clothes down.
The base of her palms was flushed light red from the exertion. The hem of her shirt drifted down, covering that startling display of white and red right before Zhong Chu’s eyes.
Zhong Chu couldn’t help but sigh, feeling a sudden surge of lingering regret in her heart. She was immediately startled by her own reaction; her head throbbed. Perhaps driven by a sense of guilt, she instinctively looked at An Yanqing’s current expression.
An Yanqing propped herself up on the bed and sat up slowly. Her hair was slightly disheveled, with a few strands hanging down, obscuring her eyes.
There was a faint red mark on her cheek from being pressed against the bed, but her eyes lacked the tears Zhong Chu had imagined. Yet, the contrast between her current extreme calm and her previous intense reaction made the sense of fragility beneath her restraint seem all the more conspicuous.
She clutched her chest, taking two quick breaths before looking at Zhong Chu. Her gaze wavered, her expression slightly complex as if she wanted to scold her for stalling. But when she spoke, she simply said, “Thank you.”
Her voice was still husky, intensifying the itch in Zhong Chu’s heart. Zhong Chu hurriedly averted her gaze, not daring to meet her eyes. Her guilt pooled into a vast ocean, threatening to drown her.
“…It was my fault to begin with.” She carefully capped the ointment, thinking of the shocking redness on An Yanqing’s back and then of her own erotic, absurd delusions. She felt she had piled error upon error, becoming a total sinner.
Fortunately, though An Yanqing knew her well, she couldn’t actually crawl into her brain to examine her thoughts.
An Yanqing’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, as if finding her reaction strange, but she didn’t pursue it further and got off the bed.
Zhong Chu packed the first-aid kit, preparing to put it back where it belonged.
When she reached the door, she couldn’t help herself. She turned back and said, “An Yanqing, your body is really too sensitive…”
As soon as she started, An Yanqing’s face went cold.
She was tall; she crossed her arms and swept a chilling glance over, radiating an immense pressure. Just standing there silently was enough to make one feel guilty and timid.
Zhong Chu’s breath hitched. She squeezed the medical box tightly, hoping to draw some courage from it. Her heart was full of regret; she felt she had misjudged things countless times, or perhaps she was just blind.
Otherwise, why did she always see a strange, contradictory sense of vulnerability in the powerful An Yanqing?
She cleared her throat. Despite her guilt and timidity, a rebellious streak stirred within her. She steeled herself and spoke up, “If you’re always going to be this resistant, you can’t expect me to just live a Platonic married life, right?”
An Yanqing froze, her poised demeanor momentarily solidifying.
Zhong Chu had been hesitant at first, but she became more fluent as she went on, eventually sounding quite righteous: “I am a woman with normal physiological needs. I won’t accept this kind of semi-widowed marital state.”
“Since we are legally wives, your duties naturally include satisfying me.”
An Yanqing:
“Frigidity is a sickness; it needs to be treated. I am your legal wife, so of course I will help you. But if you can never be cured…”