After leaving Yin Niang’s room and casually responding to Xinyue’s questions, Jiang Yin returned to lie down.
Somehow, back at the Li Residence, even though she was often hungry and had endless chores to do, Jiang Yin had been full of energy—able to run, jump, and endure hardships, even finding time in the dead of night to flirt with Shen Fengzhi.
But now, with good food, fine clothes, no need to toil, and even a dedicated physician to care for her health, her spirits were only growing weaker.
Not to mention her frequent bouts of unconsciousness, each lasting for days.
Even during ordinary times, whenever she had a moment of leisure, she would feel dizzy and drowsy, often drifting off to sleep in a daze, as if under some curse.
…Today was no different.
She had clearly been reading by the window, but when she came to, Jiang Yin realized she had slept until nightfall.
Lamps were lit in the room, and Xinyue was setting out the dishes.
Seeing Jiang Yin sit up from the table, clutching her head and staring blankly at the thin blanket draped over her, Xinyue whispered a reminder, “…The young master is outside.”
“…”
A shiver ran through her heart, as if cold water had been splashed in her face. Jiang Yin jolted upright immediately.
She turned to look at the curtain separating the inner and outer chambers, just in time to see a slender, tall figure lift the curtain and step inside, barefoot on the inner chamber’s carpet.
As he moved, the hem of his pale blue-green robe swayed gracefully, revealing half of a slender, firm calf as flawless as jade, glowing softly against the snow-white carpet.
It should have been a vivid, enchanting scene, but to Jiang Yin, it only felt glaring.
Just as she was about to pretend she hadn’t noticed, the pale blue-green hem of the robe swayed in her peripheral vision, and someone sat down beside her.
“…A Yin.”
The sudden return to this form of address made Jiang Yin pause for a moment before she replied, “Mm.”
As if completely unaware of her thoughts, he asked patiently, “Are you feeling better? Did you experience any discomfort today?”
“…”
An elegant, nameless light fragrance entwined with Jiang Yin’s breath, making her inexplicably tense.
Swallowing silently, she murmured, “A Yin is fine.”
“Have you taken your medicine?”
“…Not yet.”
Xinyue quickly chimed in from the side, “The medicine has been prepared. Please wait a moment, young master. Xinyue will fetch it now.”
“Mm.”
“…”
Listening to Xinyue close the door and leave, Jiang Yin clenched her fingers and stole a glance at the person beside her.
Seeing his calm expression, she relaxed slightly.
Glancing at the single set of bowls and chopsticks on the table, she didn’t ask any questions as she had last time. Instead, she picked up her chopsticks and began eating in small bites.
Shen Shouyu remained silent and motionless, sitting quietly like a snow-covered iceberg, gloomily looming to Jiang Yin’s left, half-enveloping her.
Even though they weren’t touching, Jiang Yin felt as if she were being crushed, struggling to breathe.
Fortunately, Xinyue returned in time with the medicine, giving her a brief moment to catch her breath:
“The medicine is hot, mistress. Please let it cool before drinking.”
Just as Jiang Yin was about to speak, Shen Shouyu calmly interjected first, “You may leave.”
“Yes.”
The door creaked softly.
Silence settled over the room once more.
Silently lowering her head to take a few bites of rice from her bowl, Jiang Yin glanced at the medicine bowl beside Shen Shouyu. After hesitating for a moment, she cautiously suggested, “Somehow, I’ve been feeling very tired lately… Perhaps this medicine isn’t right for me. Could I… not take it anymore…”
Her voice grew increasingly uncertain until it faded away entirely.
The plain lampshade softened the bright candlelight into a gentle, tranquil glow, falling upon Shen Shouyu’s fair and smooth skin, enveloping his entire figure in a faint halo as if a deity had descended to the mortal realm.
Having listened attentively to Jiang Yin’s words, his face showed no extra emotion, remaining as calm as still water.
Yet his slender hand reached forward, resting on the rim of the bowl.
“A Yin suspects I tampered with the medicine?”
“…”
Jiang Yin had indeed thought so, but hearing it spoken by Shen Shouyu inexplicably made her tense. “No… A Yin did not mean that.”
“…Is that so?”
Having been questioned too many times, Jiang Yin now felt her hair stand on end at the mere sound of those two words.
Her hand holding the chopsticks trembled, her body unconsciously tensing, her breath held, unsure how to respond.
As if sensing her panic, Shen Shouyu tapped his fingertips lightly on the rim of the bowl, softening his tone. “It’s fine. After all, I harmed A Yin first.”
With that, he lifted the bowl of medicine still steaming with heat in one hand. His sightless phoenix eyes curved slightly, the corners of his lips lifting into a rare, gentle smile. “If it can put A Yin at ease, I will drink today’s medicine.”
Before Jiang Yin could react, he brought the bowl to his lips, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one go.
“…”
Watching helplessly as the medicine in the bowl disappeared, steam still rising from it, Jiang Yin felt as if the liquid had been poured into her own stomach, scalding her lips, tongue, and innards to shreds.
Phantom pain surged, her stomach convulsing. Unable to hold back, she retched, turning aside to dry heave.
Yet the one who had truly drunk that bowl of scalding medicine remained expressionless, casting her a fleeting sidelong glance before shifting his gaze away.
He lowered his eyes, a hint of lighthearted amusement in his expression.
…He had once heard that “the wound is on my body, but the pain is in your heart,” and thought it absurd.
Now, it seemed there truly were people who could empathize so deeply.
How peculiar.
Unhurriedly, Shen Shouyu took a handkerchief from his sleeve, wiping away the medicine that had stained his chin, not forgetting to gently remind Jiang Yin, “After the last punishment, A Yin seems… to have not yet taken the contraceptive brew.”
“…”
Whether it was due to that bowl of scalding medicine or not, Shen Shouyu’s usually clear, spring-like voice carried a slight hoarseness.
Coupled with these words that were akin to adding fuel to the fire, Jiang Yin, already nauseated beyond control, felt her stomach tighten further, churning violently.
She clutched her chest tightly, dry heaving repeatedly, yet nothing came up. Instead, her face flushed crimson with the strain, leaving her utterly disheveled.
Thus, she naturally had no attention to spare for Shen Shouyu’s gaze fixed upon her.
…
Unclear whether it was excitement or agony, Shen Shouyu found himself inexplicably parched after drinking that bowl of medicine.
He looked at Jiang Yin again, ignoring the bloody taste rising in his throat, his dark phoenix eyes settling on her thin, trembling shoulders.
…He knew she had little strength.
He needed only to lean forward to effortlessly push her down, pin her hands, bite through the skin of her neck, and freely drink her blood.
Using her blood to suppress this unbearable thirst and the burning pain in his stomach would surely be effective.
It must be effective.
Merely imagining it made his mouth water and his body relax, let alone putting it into practice.
…But he could not do that.
Because she would die.
And she could not die yet.
She could not die yet.
She must live on, marry him, stay by his side, watch him rise to glory, ascend to greatness, and grind every last one of those ominous prophecies—of a miserable end, of an untimely death—into dust.
Only then would he kill her.
…kill her, strip her flesh from bone, carve out her heart and drain her blood, remove every organ, dissect her cleanly.
He wanted to see for himself—what made this person from another world so different from him, that she could so easily pronounce his fate.
…that she dared to so easily pronounce his fate.