At the hospital.
The doctor examined the wound on Song Qingtang’s hand and prescribed some medication.
Lin Qiaoshi sat beside Song Qingtang to keep her company, while Jin Zhuochuan stood outside the hospital.
Night had already fallen, and the number of pedestrians on the street was gradually increasing.
The streetlights came on, casting a dim yellow glow. Street vendors lined the roadside, hawking their goods.
The temperature in Nanyuan at night was somewhat low, and even the wind carried a chill.
He held a cigarette between his fingers and lit it. The tip glowed crimson, but he didn’t move, watching as the ember slowly crept upward.
Until it burned his fingertips.
He withdrew his gaze, lowered his eyes, and furrowed his brow slightly. Then he stubbed out the cigarette and tossed it into a nearby trash bin.
He stood outside for a while before walking back in.
The medication had already been prescribed, and the doctor was going over the aftercare instructions.
Jin Zhuochuan walked over and paid for the medicine. By then, the doctor had mostly finished with the instructions.
Song Qingtang’s knee still ached a bit, but it was far better than before.
She was just a little slow in her movements.
Getting into the car, Jin Zhuochuan first dropped Lin Qiaoshi off at home before driving toward Shallow Bay.
By the time they returned, the sky had completely darkened.
The landscaping and environment around Shallow Bay were excellent. A string of small night lights lined the railings, glowing in a riot of colors after dark.
Jin Zhuochuan parked the car and opened the door to help Song Qingtang get out.
Her palm hurt and lacked strength, making her movements slow and deliberate.
Jin Zhuochuan stood by the car door, one hand resting on it. His frame was tall and lean, his shoulders broad and well-defined.
He lowered his head, watching Song Qingtang as she slowly climbed out of the car.
Whether his patience had run out or he simply couldn’t bear to watch any longer, he let out a very soft tsk.
Then he bent down, scooped her up in his arms, and closed the door behind them.
Having been carried once before, this was the second time, and Song Qingtang’s body wasn’t as stiff as it had been previously.
But she still wasn’t relaxed.
Every time he picked her up, it was completely without warning.
Song Qingtang never had a chance to prepare.
All that escaped her lips was a faint, startled gasp.
She didn’t like being carried like this.
In her understanding, only couples who were very close did something like this.
And she and Jin Zhuochuan were nothing to each other.
The surrounding light was dim, with occasional flashes of colorful illumination falling around them. She looked up at Jin Zhuochuan, but could only see him as if hidden in shadow.
His features were hard to make out clearly.
And from this angle, it was difficult to see him properly anyway.
“Jin Zhuochuan.”
She called his name.
Unaccustomed to being held, her voice carried a slight tremor, sounding almost shy.
“Hm?” He responded vaguely.
“Next time you want to hold me, could you let me know beforehand?”
She said.
The moment the words left her mouth, Jin Zhuochuan’s steps faltered.
He looked down at her.
In the dim, shifting light, his expression was hard to read, but she could feel his gaze fixed on her face.
Direct, unwavering, with no attempt at concealment.
Held in his arms, she felt like a fish on a chopping board, at his mercy.
Being stared at so openly made Song Qingtang uncomfortable.
Just as she was about to turn her face away, she heard a faint laugh from Jin Zhuochuan.
A laugh all too familiar, with a formula she knew well.
Again that mocking, teasing tone.
Song Qingtang had thin skin, and his inexplicable laugh made her ears burn.
“What are you laughing at?” Song Qingtang muttered softly.
“You’re thinking pretty far ahead.”
His voice was flat, and as if deliberately, he paused.
Song Qingtang: “?”
“Not satisfied with two times, you’re already angling for a third?”
Song Qingtang: “?”
When had she ever expressed that?
When had she ever said she wanted him to hold her?
She was only trying to say that him picking her up so suddenly left her completely unprepared!
What kind of reading comprehension was that?!
“That’s not what I meant.” Song Qingtang tried to explain.
“Oh.” Jin Zhuochuan responded.
His tone sounded perfunctory, clearly unconvinced.
“I really didn’t—”
Song Qingtang tried to continue.
But before she could finish, she was cut off.
“Song Qingtang, sometimes I really wish I could carry a mirror around just to show you.”
Song Qingtang: “?”
What kind of nonsensical remark was that?
What was he even talking about?
Song Qingtang opened her mouth to speak again.
But Jin Zhuochuan beat her to it.
“So you could see how red your face is.”
“Your face is already this red, and you’re telling me you didn’t mean anything by it. Do you even believe that yourself?”
Song Qingtang: “…”
Damn it!
She just had thin skin!
What was wrong with blushing?!
Song Qingtang’s ears were burning hot.
She refused to give up and argued back: “I just have thin skin, that’s all. Don’t overinterpret things.”
Jin Zhuochuan curled his lips, a faint arc forming at the corners of his mouth.
He carried her into the villa.
The lighting was soft, falling like a veil of white gauze.
He lowered his head to glance at her.
Her nose was tinged pink, her face flushed with a rosy hue, the corners of her eyes moist, her gaze shimmering.
The light in her eyes trembled faintly beneath the gentle white glow.
Her lashes were fine and dense, like crow feathers, damp with moisture, casting a small shadow across her delicate skin.
Held in his arms, she didn’t need to look up. She just watched him, a hint of grievance in her expression.
The moment his eyes met hers, Jin Zhuochuan froze, feeling as though something feather-light had brushed past his heart.
It itched.
He looked away, not meeting her gaze again.
After a moment, he finally spoke. “Song Qingtang, you’re not going to cry again later, are you?”
Song Qingtang blinked. “I’m not that prone to crying.”
Jin Zhuochuan opened the door and carried her inside.
He flicked on the light switch and set her down directly on the sofa.
Song Qingtang opened the plastic bag in her hand, which held the medicine she needed to apply.
The doctor had said that after applying these medicines, her wound would heal quickly.
Song Qingtang took out the medicine, opened it, and pulled a cotton swab from the small box.
Her movements were slow as she squeezed the white ointment onto the cotton swab before beginning to spread it over her palm.
Halfway through, a shadow fell over her.
Jin Zhuochuan had walked to her side, his silhouette cast by the light, landing right in her palm.
The brightness was blocked.
Song Qingtang looked up at Jin Zhuochuan and said, “You’re blocking my light.”
Jin Zhuochuan hummed in acknowledgment and sat down on the sofa beside her.
As he sat, she could clearly feel the space becoming cramped.
What’s more, his gaze was fixed squarely on her hand as she applied the medicine.
That look made her feel a little hot under the collar.
She pressed her lips together and said, “Can you go sit on the other side?”
There was so much more sofa.
Why did he have to sit right next to her?
It was so crowded.
Jin Zhuochuan didn’t look up, answering without a moment’s hesitation. “No.”
Song Qingtang: “…”
Song Qingtang was instantly at a loss for words.
She lowered her head and quietly continued applying the medicine to herself.
She had barely been at it for a moment when a hand with clearly defined knuckles appeared in her line of sight.
Then, naturally, it took the cotton swab from Song Qingtang’s hand.
Song Qingtang: “?”
What are you doing.