9 – He Couldn’t Have Kicked Him to Death, Could He?
“What haven’t you seen of me? You’re the one who’s going to be in show business, hugging and kissing all sorts of men in the future—why are you being so prudish?” Fu Jingxiao sneered as he watched Luo Xingchen turn her back to him.
His words made Luo Xingchen involuntarily recall the scenes from that night.
It had been her first time, but Fu Jingxiao—that battle-hardened scoundrel—had shown no consideration for whether she could handle it, subjecting her to one outrageous trick after another.
Whenever she recalled those images, she was so embarrassed she wished she could crawl into a crack in the ground.
“Seen is seen. We’re divorced now, so if you don’t put on clothes, you’re indecent. Put them on quickly, or I’m leaving you to fend for yourself,” Luo Xingchen said coldly.
“My back is covered in wounds. You want me to put on clothes so they stick to the fabric and hurt me to death?” Fu Jingxiao asked, his voice weak.
Luo Xingchen turned around, and only then did she see that on Fu Jingxiao’s bronze-toned back was a wound over ten centimeters long. Below his neck, there were also many burn blisters of varying sizes—a truly shocking sight.
He’d been injured so badly that night—why hadn’t he gone to the hospital to have it stitched and treated?
Did he think he was a cat with nine lives?
“Take the fever medicine first, then I’ll treat your burns,” Luo Xingchen said, her voice carrying an inexplicable trace of displeasure.
Fu Jingxiao put the medicine in his mouth and tilted his head back to drink water.
As he drank, Luo Xingchen noticed a beautiful crystal pendant hanging around his neck, with a piece of paper rolled up inside.
Curious, she looked at it carefully. The moment she saw the color of the paper and the few characters written on it, her eyes widened in shock.
The recipe she had dropped had actually been picked up by Fu Jingxiao.
It was the recipe her mother had left her. She had to find a way to steal it back.
Fu Jingxiao finished taking his medicine and handed the glass to Luo Xingchen.
Taking the glass, Luo Xingchen looked at the wound on his back, where the flesh had split and curled outward: “The wound on your back is a bit deep. It’ll take a while to heal naturally. I’d suggest you go to the hospital to get it stitched—it’ll heal much faster that way.”
“It’s just a small wound, it’s fine. It’ll be better in a few days,” Fu Jingxiao said dismissively.
Hearing him say that, Luo Xingchen didn’t press further. If she said more, he’d think she cared about him, that she still had feelings for him.
“I’ll apply the burn ointment,” Luo Xingchen said, opening the medical kit and taking out the ointment to apply to Fu Jingxiao’s burns.
Luo Xingchen applied it with focus and care, but Fu Jingxiao felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles.
The wounds on his back hurt badly, and his body ached from the burns. But wherever Luo Xingchen’s hands touched, it was like a wildfire spreading across a plain, making him involuntarily recall the scenes from that night.
The more he thought about it, the stronger the urge grew to pull her into his arms and take her wildly.
Fu Jingxiao forcibly drove those improper images from his mind, forcing himself to close his eyes and sleep.
Luo Xingchen deliberately applied the ointment slowly. She knew how to massage the body’s muscles to make a person relax and drift into sleep.
For someone as weak and covered in wounds as Fu Jingxiao, it was all the more effective.
Seeing Fu Jingxiao with his eyes closed, apparently in deep sleep, Luo Xingchen shifted her gaze to the pendant around his neck.
The pendant had been pressed under his left side, so Luo Xingchen walked around to the other side of the bed, knelt on it, and reached out to gently pull at the cord of the pendant around Fu Jingxiao’s neck.
Because Fu Jingxiao knew martial arts, his reflexes were sharper than an ordinary person’s. She tugged at the cord carefully, and just as the pendant was about to be pulled free, a happy smile appeared on Luo Xingchen’s face.
The moment she let her guard down, she felt a scorching heat close around her neck. She jerked her head up, and her lips brushed against something warm and soft.
For a moment, Luo Xingchen’s mind went completely blank, and she forgot to react.
His lips had touched Luo Xingchen’s soft, slightly cool ones, and Fu Jingxiao froze as well.
He had only meant to restrain Luo Xingchen and then demand whether she was the one who had saved him. He never expected that the moment he lifted his head, he would kiss her lips.
A woman’s lips were too soft. It reminded Fu Jingxiao of that soul-melting night. And now, burning with a high fever, kissing Luo Xingchen’s cool lips felt like tasting refreshing ice cream in the height of summer. Instinctively, he opened his mouth, wanting to explore more of that sweetness.
It wasn’t until the man’s heavy body pressed her onto the bed, kissing her wildly, that Luo Xingchen snapped out of her daze. She hurriedly reached out to push him away, but he pinned her wrists, leaving her unable to move.
Damn it—the man was injured and running a fever, yet his strength was still this great.
Clearly, without external weapons, she was no match for him at all.
“Bastard, let go of me, or don’t blame me for being rude!” Luo Xingchen turned her head, commanding him in a furious voice.
Damn it—she had come straight from the competition today without carrying anything on her.
Otherwise, she would make him taste what it felt like to be bullied.
While drinking water, Fu Jingxiao had caught Luo Xingchen’s expression as she stared at his pendant out of the corner of his eye.
After being rescued by the woman that night, Fu Jingxiao had recalled her words, and connecting them to her eyes—somewhat similar to Luo Xingchen’s—he had hung the formula around his neck.
If the person who saved him that night was Luo Xingchen, then seeing the thing on his neck would surely provoke a reaction from her.
Noticing that Luo Xingchen’s movements slowed as she applied the medicine, Fu Jingxiao had deliberately pretended to sleep. Sure enough, he caught her trying to steal his pendant.
“Let go of what? You’re my wife. A husband sleeping with his wife is only natural.”
To force Luo Xingchen into revealing her martial arts, Fu Jingxiao deliberately provoked her, sealing her lips in a kiss while one hand wandered restlessly over her body.
“Fu Jingxiao, open your dog eyes and look carefully—I’m your ex-wife! We’re divorced! Sleeping with me now is illegal. I can sue you and send you to prison!”
Had this damn man’s fever cooked his brain?
They were divorced, yet he could still spout such shameless nonsense about “a husband sleeping with his wife being only natural.”
Fu Jingxiao lifted his head, his gaze full of arrogance and disdain, looking at Luo Xingchen with domineering force: “In Xia Country, I am the law. Never mind that you’re my ex-wife—even if you were a complete stranger, no one would dare send me to prison for sleeping with you!” With that, he leaned down once more and kissed her lips.
Provoked beyond endurance, Luo Xingchen felt a surge of rage rise from the soles of her feet. Her eyes turned cold, and summoning all her strength, she slammed a heavy palm into Fu Jingxiao’s chest, then swiftly kicked him in the abdomen.
Fu Jingxiao’s body was sent flying into the air like a ball before crashing heavily onto the carpet.
Fu Jingxiao felt his heart hurt so badly he could barely keep his eyes from rolling back, and with his stomach churning in turmoil, a wave of despairing, near-death agony washed over him.
“The woman who saved me that night really was… you!” With all his remaining strength, Fu Jingxiao lifted his head to look at Luo Xingchen, who sat on the bed with a face full of murderous intent. He forced out these words with great difficulty, and then everything went black as he passed out.
Seeing Fu Jingxiao unconscious, Luo Xingchen immediately understood why he had treated her that way just now.
He had deliberately provoked her, wanting to confirm whether she knew martial arts, and whether she was the one who had saved him that night.
Luo Xingchen secretly cursed her own carelessness—Fu Jingxiao had tricked the truth about her rescue out of her with just a few words.
Looking at the wound on Fu Jingxiao’s back, crimson blood slowly seeping out, a trace of fear rose in Luo Xingchen’s eyes.
She had struck so hard just now—surely she hadn’t kicked him to death, had she?