To be honest, those words of self-exposure and baring old wounds should not have been spoken to Jiang Yin.
In Shen Shouyu’s expectations, he should have maintained his lofty position in their relationship—never showing weakness, never lowering his head, silently looking down upon her, watching her struggle for survival.
Yet somehow, an inexplicable impulse drove him to actively tear open his own wounds and calmly display them to this strange woman he had known for only a few days.
As Shen Shouyu had anticipated, she did not care much.
In comparison, she was more concerned about that cup of tea mixed with blood.
Because to her, that tea was the only thing that would truly connect with her.
…She did not need to participate in his tragic past, but that cup of blood-tainted tea would have to be swallowed into her stomach, becoming a part of her body.
…What a selfish person.
Shen Shouyu inwardly sneered, yet his expression remained unchanged as he feigned an empty gaze and fixed it on Jiang Yin’s face.
He was genuinely curious—would she drink this tea or not?
…Just as he was thinking this, the young woman before him raised her hand and calmly poured the tea onto a nearby cushion.
“…”
Nearly losing control of his expression, Shen Shouyu clenched his fingers tightly, suppressing the sudden surge of emotions.
…Very well.
Well done.
…
Unaware of all this, Jiang Yin gently picked up another cup of tea from the table, tilted her head back, and drank it.
She deliberately swallowed loudly, then handed the empty cup back: “…Young master’s kindness, A Yin accepts.”
“…”
…What an “acceptance.”
His heart was already in turmoil, yet his face remained calm.
Shen Shouyu’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he nodded and extended his palm to Jiang Yin: “There is medicine for wounds in the front hall cabinet. I must trouble Madam Jiang.”
“…Alright.”
Originally thinking Shen Shouyu had only one wound on his hand, Jiang Yin was surprised to find several crescent-shaped injuries on his palm, the entire hand covered in blood.
Jiang Yin stared blankly for a moment before standing up: “Young master, please wait a moment.”
“…Mm.”
When she returned from the front hall with the medicine, Shen Shouyu remained in the same posture as when she had left, his expression empty, lost in thought.
Silently sitting down, she took his hand and said softly, “Young master, if it hurts, you can grip my hand.”
“…”
These words inevitably reminded Shen Shouyu of how she had clutched his sleeve earlier—those thin, fragile bones and pale, delicate skin.
…Likely unable to withstand even a bit of his strength.
But he said nothing, first nodding, then declining: “It’s fine, I won’t feel pain.”
Jiang Yin had only been politely offering, and upon hearing this, she glanced at the young man before her before lowering her gaze to his wounds. Skillfully, she disinfected and applied medicine, wrapping clean white bandages around his hand layer by layer.
Once finished, she kindly advised, “Do not let the wounds touch water.”
“Mm.”
Seeing him obediently agree, Jiang Yin put away the lacquered tray containing the medicine, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief.
…
Because of this small act of bandaging his wounds, the tension between the two seemed to ease somewhat.
At noon, Shen Shouyu surprisingly stayed for lunch.
He had many dietary restrictions, so the meal was simple.
Yet it was clear that every dish on the table had been prepared with great care.
When Jiang Yin was in middle school, she had read Dream of the Red Chamber.
At the time, she could not yet understand the romance or deeper meanings within it. The only thing that interested her were the descriptions of the ladies’ and mistresses’ food, clothing, and daily necessities.
What eggplant mince, sugar-steamed cheese curd, goose feet and duck tongues… Just hearing about them was enough to make one’s mouth water.
Never did she imagine that one day, she too would get to taste a few of these delicacies.
…But then again, Jiang Yin was somewhat curious—why could Shen Shouyu, a prince who had been expelled from the imperial lineage, still maintain such dignity?
…After all, in the books, most people like him ended up miserable and disgraced.
Lost in thought, she glanced at the young man across from her, who was slowly chewing his food, and felt puzzled.
Shen Shouyu, as if completely unaware, sat quietly in the bright room, his movements gentle and his demeanor dignified, repeatedly bringing the dishes Jiang Yin had placed in his bowl to his mouth.
He neither made suggestions nor demands—whatever Jiang Yin gave him, he ate.
This obedient demeanor was a far cry from the young man who had coldly lectured Jiang Yin earlier.
With a hint of subtle malice, Jiang Yin piled nearly half a bowl of green vegetables into his bowl.
…And he obediently ate every last bit.
…
Jiang Yin suffered from post-meal drowsiness. After finishing lunch, rinsing her mouth, and washing up, she went to lie down on the couch.
Shen Shouyu lay down beside her, neither holding nor embracing her, simply closing his eyes in silence.
Just as Jiang Yin was wondering whether to start a conversation, his breathing gradually evened out.
…Although ever since his wound was bandaged, the two had hardly exchanged any words, and the atmosphere felt somewhat awkward.
But perhaps this was for the best.
She didn’t particularly want to speak with Shen Shouyu either.
To be honest… her feelings toward Shen Shouyu were now dominated more by fear than anything else.
But it was only fear—even calling it terror felt like an overstatement.
As for loathing or hating him, those feelings existed, but not to the point where she wanted to kill him on sight…
Lost in these silent thoughts, Jiang Yin gradually drifted into a deep sleep.
…
Only when the room fell silent, save for the girl’s soft, shallow breaths, did the young man, who should have been asleep long ago, open his eyes.
He turned his head to look at the girl, tightly wrapped in the blanket with only half her face visible, his expression shifting slightly.
After watching her for a long time, he turned onto his side and silently reached out to brush away the stray hairs on her forehead.
The light, ticklish sensation made the girl frown slightly, but she did not pull away.
Shen Shouyu withdrew his hand, as if remembering something, and propped himself up to unwrap the white cloth from his hand.
He had never been gentle with himself. Though the wounds on his palm and between his fingers were not large, they were deep and caked with dried blood.
In such a short time, the wounds had already stuck to the cloth. With a rough tug, they tore open once more.
Unable to tell whether it was pain or relief, Shen Shouyu only felt as though his heart had been clenched tightly by someone.
…After a momentary pause, his heartbeat grew increasingly frantic.
Lowering his dark, feather-like lashes, he silently pinched the bitten fingertip, allowing the pain to intensify bit by bit.
Even as his hand suffered, his dark, brooding phoenix eyes remained fixed unblinkingly on the peacefully sleeping girl before him.
The image of her frowning as she poured out that cup of tea replayed vividly in his mind.
Clearly so afraid of him… yet daring to deceive him so blatantly, thinking him blind.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Shen Shouyu freed his other hand to grip Jiang Yin’s chin. He rubbed his blood-stained fingertip against her lips a few times, then pried open her teeth and carefully slipped it inside.
…The fingertip was warm and moist, and the pain from the wound seemed less sharp.
He lingered for a moment before slowly withdrawing.
Glancing at the girl who still slept peacefully, unaware of her own situation, Shen Shouyu gently touched her smooth forehead.
Then, he leaned in once more, pressing his lips against hers, and tried to deepen the kiss slightly.
…Yet he only tasted it briefly, not lingering for too long.
After doing this, the young man turned away from the bed without any attachment, standing beside it and looking down at the frail girl enveloped in his shadow.
A faint, glistening crimson still lingered on her lips, adding a touch of vitality to her originally pale complexion.
…Truly beautiful.
A pity he did not have much time to admire it.
But it did not matter—once his great undertaking was accomplished, what was his would remain his.
Not a single one would escape.