Song Qingtang: “…”
Song Qingtang was at a loss for words, momentarily unsure of what to say.
She simply turned her face away, refusing to look at him.
Lin Qiaoshi helped wipe the dust from her hands, carefully resting them on her knees before lifting her gaze to look at her.
“Should we go to the hospital to get some medicine?”
Song Qingtang nodded.
Lin Qiaoshi then moved to help Song Qingtang stand up.
Song Qingtang’s knees were already somewhat sore, and having crouched for so long, they had gone a bit numb.
Her palms couldn’t find the strength to push herself up, making it uncomfortable.
Jin Zhuochuan crouched nearby, his brows and eyes indifferent as he watched her.
After struggling a few times without managing to stand, her face flushed red.
Thin-skinned.
And stubbornly proud.
Jin Zhuochuan paused for a few seconds before shifting his body, standing up, and then bending down at Song Qingtang’s side.
One hand placed behind her back, the other passing beneath her knees, he lifted her directly into a princess carry.
“Hey—”
His movement was sudden, without the slightest warning.
Song Qingtang only felt a dizzying spin, a faint, crisp scent pressing against her nostrils.
Her arm pressed tightly against Jin Zhuochuan’s chest, fine threads of warmth transmitting through her skin.
Her heartbeat seemed to stall for an instant.
As if all her senses had gone numb.
It took a while before she slowly recovered.
The arm supporting her back was firm against her, and Song Qingtang’s entire body was stiff.
She didn’t dare move a single inch, overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness.
She had never been carried like this before—she didn’t even know where to put her hands.
Especially being held by Jin Zhuochuan.
So uncomfortable.
She pressed her lips together, deliberating before speaking: “Jin Zhuochuan, can you put me down first…”
Jin Zhuochuan walked outward, not lowering his head to look at her, his gaze fixed ahead.
After a long moment, he replied: “Can you walk on your own?”
His voice sounded no different from usual, yet she unexpectedly detected a hint of hoarseness.
A raspy texture to it.
Song Qingtang answered without thinking: “I can walk.”
“Do you believe that yourself?” Jin Zhuochuan said. “I wonder who it was that couldn’t even stand up just now.”
Song Qingtang: “…”
His tone was completely flat, devoid of even emotion.
Yet Song Qingtang could hear a hint of mockery in it.
She pursed her lips and muttered a small rebuttal: “That was then, this is now.”
Whether it was because her voice was too soft, or Jin Zhuochuan simply didn’t want to acknowledge her,
She didn’t hear him speak again.
But as they descended the stairs, her head would occasionally tilt to one side, and in those moments, she seemed to hear Jin Zhuochuan’s heartbeat.
Or perhaps it was her imagination.
She couldn’t quite tell, only that the heartbeat sounded exceptionally steady.
Jin Zhuochuan carried her to the car, opened the door, bent down, and set her into the seat.
Because of this movement, the distance between them was suddenly drawn very close.
His breath brushed lightly across her ear, somewhat warm, somewhat ticklish.
Song Qingtang instinctively shifted away to the side.
The space inside the car was already cramped, and Song Qingtang felt her breathing slow.
Especially being this close to Jin Zhuochuan, with this posture feeling particularly intimate.
It seemed to carry a sense of aggression and dominance. A strange, inexplicable pull.
Even the air seemed to move slower.
It felt like a long time, though it might have only been a few seconds.
Jin Zhuochuan finally straightened up, hand on the car door, and as he prepared to close it, he lowered his head to glance at Song Qingtang.
Her ears were tinged pink, as if dyed by the juice of some flower petal.
The red mark on her chin had finally faded, but her face still held a flush of embarrassment and helplessness that hadn’t subsided.
Stray strands of hair fell by her ears, slightly obscuring her lovely profile.
Her head hung low, her gaze unfocused, not looking at anything in particular.
Probably feeling embarrassed.
Jin Zhuochuan looked for two seconds before withdrawing his gaze, his Adam’s apple rolling slightly. He felt a hint of amusement, his voice carrying a strange roughness: “Suffering for the sake of saving face.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but Song Qingtang heard it clearly.
She lifted her head, looking at Jin Zhuochuan: “You—”
Before she could finish, Jin Zhuochuan closed the car door.
The words caught in her throat were neatly cut off by him.
Song Qingtang felt a knot of frustration in her chest.
He actually said she was suffering for the sake of saving face.
Was she?
She absolutely was not!
It took Lin Qiaoshi three seconds to react.
Song Qingtang had been carried away by Jin Zhuochuan.
A princess carry, no less.
She felt the impact of this scene was considerable; she stayed crouched in place, unmoving, taking a long time to process the fact.
How strange—Jin Zhuochuan didn’t seem quite like what she’d heard about him.
So odd.
She stood up from the ground, about to leave, when her peripheral vision caught Chen Wenxiu lying on the ground, beaten to within an inch of his life.
Lin Qiaoshi walked over and delivered a vicious kick to his waist.
“Stupid piece of shit,” Lin Qiaoshi cursed. “What bad luck.”
That kick was exceptionally forceful; Chen Wenxiu’s body trembled from the impact.
“You motherfucker…” Chen Wenxiu tried to struggle to his feet, but he was too beaten up to muster any strength.
Then Lin Qiaoshi kicked him again.
He was completely down for the count.
After those two kicks, Lin Qiaoshi finally felt much better.
She looked up at Su Yiyun in the corner.
Su Yiyun had her arms crossed over her chest, staring at Lin Qiaoshi with wary eyes.
Lin Qiaoshi sneered. “Don’t you dare pull any tricks, or next time I’ll kick your ass too.”
With that, she ran outside.
She recognized Jin Zhuochuan’s car—it was parked at the entrance, not yet driven off.
She ran over, opened the back door, and upon seeing Song Qingtang inside, smiled and climbed in.
Jin Zhuochuan was sitting in the driver’s seat, one arm bent and resting on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping on it idly.
His other hand held his phone, his thumb tapping away at the screen.
No telling what he was doing.
Hearing the door open, he knew Lin Qiaoshi had arrived, so he put his phone away and started the car.
Lin Qiaoshi sat in the back, linking arms with Song Qingtang, her tone unable to hide her excitement: “Qingqing, I just kicked that piece of shit twice, and it felt so damn good!”
As she spoke, Lin Qiaoshi seemed to think of something and added with a hint of regret: “Qingqing, if only he’d been lying face-down.”
Song Qingtang looked at her and asked, “Why’s that?”
Lin Qiaoshi answered without hesitation: “That way I could’ve kicked his third leg!”
Song Qingtang: “…”
Song Qingtang wanted to laugh. She held it in for a long time, couldn’t hold it anymore, and burst out laughing.
Lin Qiaoshi pursed her lips and draped an arm around Song Qingtang’s shoulder. “Just tell me if I’m right or not.”
Song Qingtang laughed so hard her shoulders trembled slightly.
She nodded. “You’re right.”
Lin Qiaoshi leaned in sneakily and whispered in her ear: “Let me tell you, if Jin Zhuochuan ever does anything shitty, you make sure to tell me.”
She paused for a moment before continuing: “I’ll kick his third leg straight to hell!”