The rough palm rubbed against the swollen and painful area, and a pain several times more intense than before instantly surged through. Even though Xie Jinning was mentally prepared, he couldn’t help but cry out in pain, like a fish out of water, its tail flapping as if trying to escape the clutches of a predator, only to be swiftly caught and pressed back into place by a quick arm.
The connection between his legs was tightly controlled in the palm of a hand, and his pair of white jade feet kicked against the sheets, only managing to create a few wrinkles.
“It hurts, ugh… I don’t want the medicine anymore, stop rubbing, let me go.”
His pale fingers turned white from exertion, the thin skin revealing indigo veins like vines, or like the intricate patterns carved on porcelain, trembling with his struggle.
His whole body flushed a light red, his waist twisting, tears streaming down, and the soft, tender flesh at his hips rippling with a gentle, soft wave, occasionally revealing a tender pink.
The red and white intertwined, rising and falling, creating a strangely enchanting and lingering beauty.
“Hang in there.”
His legs were brought together, and Yan Yi bent over, catching the struggling person who had moved forward, and held him back. He applied the ointment to his palm again and covered the area.
Seeing that he couldn’t escape, Xie Jinning opened his mouth to curse, “Yan Yi, you big jerk, ah! You annoying brute, let me go.”
Then he softened his tone to plead, “Ugh, stop it, it hurts so much… no more medicine, please…”
“It’ll be over soon.”
His palm was filled with a smooth, soft sensation, like touching a piece of smooth snow tofu. Yan Yi exhaled a hot breath, feeling as if the bath he just took was wasted, the heat making him uncomfortable all over.
The rubbed-open wound was burning and swollen, the scorching pain gradually transforming into a strange numbness. His eyelashes were wet with sweat and tears, and Xie Jinning bit the corner of the pillow, trying to muffle his small sobs and nasal hums, but still couldn’t hold back, letting out a little.
His black hair was scattered and tangled, the black and white interwoven, adding a touch of allure.
The hem of his upper garment was pushed up, revealing finger marks that almost covered his entire snow-white waist. Below the slender, narrow section, the lines gradually widened to encompass two soft, full mounds being kneaded and manipulated, the ointment melted by body heat giving them a glossy sheen.
The two deep dimples at the junction of his waist and hips seemed to hold fragrant wine, tempting one to lean in, lightly kiss, and taste the sweetness.
The air was filled with the scent of medicine and the fragrance of the young man’s body. Yan Yi’s eyes were bloodshot, his brows furrowed deeply, almost grinding his molars to pieces.
Lifting his palm, the soft mound that had been tightly covered and pressed was still twitching and trembling, shivering slightly. A fire ignited in Yan Yi’s chest, flowing through his blood to his limbs and organs, as if it would burn him to ashes.
The moisture in his body seemed to want to escape with his breath from this furnace. A drop of sweat slid down from his temple, landing between the trembling, tightly clenched thighs, sliding down the pink-white line.
It was as if it was the nectar seeping from that place.
Outside, the bright moon hung high, the autumn wind was cool, and inside, the room was filled with a rich fragrance, a scene of spring.
Yan Yi suddenly stood up, “It’s done.”
By the time Xie Jinning recovered, Yan Yi was already gone.
“Yan Yi, you big jerk!”
Xie Jinning was still feeling weak all over, his voice sounded like it had been crushed, and even his angry shout was soft, like a kitten’s meow.
He had vomited up his dinner before bathing and didn’t know if he would wake up hungry in the middle of the night. He had wanted to wait for Yan Yi to finish applying the medicine to ask if there was anything to eat, but the guy ran off so fast, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
Moreover…
Just now, he had actually felt a strange numbness, and now even his bones felt tingly.
A strong sense of shame surged in his heart, and Xie Jinning’s eyes turned red. After calming down a bit, he took the pillow as if it were Yan Yi and punched it a few times to vent his frustration.
Once the ointment dried, he carefully put on his pants and then lay down to sleep deeply.
…
That night, the bright moon hung high.
Yan Yi lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
He was only wearing his inner clothes, the neatly folded quilt piled at the corner of the bed. The autumn night was slightly cool, but his back was sticky with sweat.
He couldn’t sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the soft mounds and the constantly struggling, flapping fish tail, and he seemed to hear Xie Jinning’s cries of pain in his ears.
Damn.
The smell of blood was strong in his nose, as if it was about to gush out again. He was so hot that he was sweating profusely, breathing heavily, looking at the still erect and proud part between his legs, he suddenly sat up and slapped himself.
Was he going crazy, with his mind full of that stuff, how was he any different from a lecherous thief?
In anger and confusion, he didn’t hold back, and the crisp “slap” echoed in the room.
Yan Yi was hit so hard that he turned his head, his brain buzzing, his cheek swelling, the burning pain spreading.
His hand on his knee opened and closed, the different sensation making him involuntarily recall that smooth, soft feeling, only to immediately pull his consciousness away.
His face suddenly darkened, he pressed his cheek, and simply got out of bed to start practicing his punches. The sound of fists cutting through the air echoed in the empty room, showing the ferocity and terrifying strength.
If Xie Jinning were here, he would realize that compared to now, the strength the man used when he slapped him over his knee was less than one-tenth.
In the darkness, Yan Yi’s bright black eyes seemed to be burning with fire, shining brightly, the veins like giant pythons coiling around his muscular arms, each swing carrying absolute power.
After a full hour, Yan Yi, drenched in sweat, finally vented the fire in his chest, casually grabbed a cloth to wipe himself, got back into bed, and continued to stare at the thatched roof.
That part had calmed down, but his mind was getting clearer, refusing to fall asleep.
With his arms propped behind his head, to prevent thinking about those things again, Yan Yi began to dig into his memories.
He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking, searching in the empty mind, needle-like fragments of memory passing by, only to disappear like shooting stars.
It was another fruitless day.
After lying for a while, unable to sleep, Yan Yi simply got up and went outside to admire the moonlight.
The Xie family and this household were very close, with only a half-arm’s width between the two courtyard walls, almost as if they were nonexistent. And the room where Xie Jinning was now sleeping was the one closest to the courtyard wall.
Unknowingly, Yan Yi walked to the wall.
In the moonlight, the yellow mud and gravel in front of him, his gaze seemed to penetrate the layers of walls, focusing on the young man lying in bed.
The night was silent, the wind had paused, and Yan Yi heard Xie Jinning’s breathing, shallow and even, clearly in a deep sleep.
He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, his brow twitching again.
“Why…”
Could it be that he was at the age to marry and have children, and was mistaking the fair-faced Xie Jinning for a woman?
He didn’t know.
After standing still for a moment, Yan Yi withdrew his gaze, turned on his heel, and was about to leave when he heard another whimper.
Perhaps Xie Jinning had cried too much today, and Yan Yi immediately noticed the difference.
Unlike the crying from grievance or pain, this time his breathing was short, his throat sticky, but his voice was muddled.
It was a murmur in a state of unconsciousness, but more clearly, he had fallen into an inescapable nightmare.
His steps paused slightly.
Should he go check?
In the room next door, Xie Jinning, who was covered tightly and sleeping soundly, suddenly whimpered, his brow furrowing.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and soon the redness faded, his face turning pale, but his cheeks were unnaturally flushed, like two spots of vermilion on a canvas that hadn’t been blended.
“Ugh.”
Xie Jinning felt like he was soaking in a hot pool, but soon, a cold wind blew, and the hot pool instantly froze into ice, leaving him shivering, and then came another warm current.
The alternating hot and cold was extremely uncomfortable.
He realized he had a fever, but his body felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, his eyelids tightly glued shut, unable to open no matter what, and his throat felt blocked.
His body was cold as an ice sculpture, but inside, a fire was burning, consuming all the oxygen.
“So hot, uncomfortable…”
His dry lips parted slightly, but he couldn’t even make a sound.
The only person who could help him, Yan Yi, was probably already asleep, and with a wall between them, there was no way he could hear his cries for help.
Xie Jinning felt hopeless.
Moisture continuously seeped from his body, his sweat-soaked hair clinging tightly to his neck, weaving into a dense net, as if to strangle him. His mind grew more and more muddled, and at that moment, he thought he might really die that night.
In his hazy consciousness, he seemed to hear a call, or perhaps it was a hallucination as he neared death.
It wasn’t until he felt his trembling fingertip, which he had used all his strength to lift, being held by someone, that Xie Jinning’s mind relaxed, and he completely lost consciousness.
He slept deeply, and when he briefly awoke, he felt himself being carried on someone’s back, his calves swaying, his forearms hanging limply.
His cheek felt cool, and he instinctively buried his face further in, blocking out the annoying wind in his ears.
The prohibition he recalled during the day was powerless in his drowsiness, dissipating with the wind. Xie Jinning remembered riding on Xie Qing’s back as a child, the stern helmsman of the canal at home was just an ordinary husband and father.
He would lift his long-unseen young son, making Xie Jinning giggle, then deliberately use his stubble to poke his tender cheeks, and when he saw him about to cry, he would squat down without any image, letting him ride on his back like a horse.
Inside, the joyful cheers of the child, the gentle reminders of the mother to slow down, and the boy’s clapping and laughter intertwined into a scene of happiness and warmth.
Outside the scene, Xie Jinning stood in the darkness, tears streaming down his face, his tears and hot breath soaking his shoulder and back.
“Ugh.”
The fingertips like white jade curled up, and Yan Yi, thinking Xie Jinning was awake, slowed his pace.
He turned his head to see the boy wrapped in a thin blanket, only half of his face exposed, his fever-flushed face with trembling eyelids, the corners of his eyes glistening, tears wetting his temples.
“Father…”
The memory was shattered by the rapid breathing and heartbeat like drumbeats, and Xie Jinning frowned in grievance.
“I hate you.”
It was unclear who he was muttering to, his head sank, and he fell back into a deep sleep.
The village road was quiet and narrow in the deep night, the moonlight enveloping the two figures.
The man walking briskly adjusted the plump thighs of the person on his back, lifting his arms slightly to secure him more firmly, then quickened his pace again.
There used to be a famous old doctor in the village, but ever since Yan Yi almost injured him a few months ago, the old doctor was so frightened that his children took him back to the town’s clinic.
There was a clinic in the nearby village, but Hetian Village was so remote that the nearest village was twenty or thirty miles away.
He had been carrying Xie Jinning for almost an hour, slowing down whenever he sensed he might wake up to keep the pace steady, then speeding up again afterward.
In this way, more than half the journey had passed.