Inside her mind, Shen Li cursed the original owner of this body eight hundred times over.
She let out two dry coughs, not daring to meet Er-lang’s gaze. She kept her head down, busying herself by kneading a cloth in the water.
“It won’t happen again,” Shen Li said tonelessly.
With that, she took the wet cloth, dabbed it with soap-nut powder, and began to wash Er-lang inch by inch, carefully maneuvering around the wounds that had yet to close.
It won’t happen again? Er-lang watched her every move, a tiny ripple disturbing the dark, stagnant pool of his heart.
The soap-nut powder Shen Li had purchased was of the highest quality—the kind only wealthy families in town could afford—and it carried a faint, clean botanical scent. As the fragrance filled his nose, Er-lang knew this was another significant expense.
Was this really all for him?
He kept his eyes lowered, still not daring to look at her, allowing her to gently wipe his skin with the soft cloth. It took two full basins of water just to finish his upper body.
Once he was clean, Shen Li took a good look at him and felt her breath hitch. Good heavens, he’s a total heart-throb!
Perhaps because he had been ill for so long, his already fair skin possessed a sickly, translucent pallor, like exquisite porcelain that might shatter at the slightest touch. His lips were perfectly defined, as if drawn by a master’s brush. His nose wasn’t sharply prominent, but it sat perfectly on his face, giving him a gentle, refined appearance.
But his most striking feature was his “peach blossom” eyes—the outer corners tilted upward with an unconscious, magnetic charm. And right there, at the very edge of his eye, sat a tiny, blood-red cinnabar mole.
Lord have mercy! Shen Li thought. Weren’t those moles supposed to be reserved for the protagonists of romance novels? How did a boy growing up in a dusty village end up with something so alluring?
Even Shen Li, who usually felt as calm as still water, felt like tearing her hair out. Is Er-lang some kind of compensation from the Heavens because I stayed single for twenty years in my past life?
At that moment, her “compensation” looked up at her, his eyes filled with a quiet, brooding resentment.
Shen Li cleared her throat. “Upper body is done.” Avoiding his gaze, she made a show of inspecting his shoulders and chest. “Now, I need to wash your lower half.” She reached out, intending to pull away the filthy, coarse hemp trousers he was wearing.
In an instant, a flush crept up from Er-lang’s neck to his face. He shook his head violently, his breathing becoming ragged and panicked. This woman! Before, she wouldn’t touch me if her life depended on it. Now, she wants to strip me completely?
Shen Li knew his pride was stinging, but she couldn’t just let him stay in those soiled rags; it would be disastrous for the healing of the wounds on his back. She opened her mouth to snap at him, but then she realized something: looking at this clean, beautiful boy, she couldn’t bring herself to repeat that line about “stripping him and tossing him in a tub.”
Er-lang’s eyes were rimmed with red, and a faint shimmer of tears glistened in them. Shen Li’s heart softened. She felt as though she were bullying a fragile masterpiece.
Resorting to the method she used for little San-lang, she placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair gently. “Be good now. Just listen to me. Once we’re done washing, we’ll get you into fresh clothes.”
She reached for the trousers again.
However, the “San-lang method” didn’t work on the elder brother. Er-lang continued to thrash his head in refusal, his face turning a deep crimson from the effort. Tears finally spilled over and tracked down his temples.
He knew she meant well. Who wouldn’t want to live a clean life? But in all his years, aside from his parents, only his tiny brother had ever helped him clean himself. As a man, his dignity had already been ground into the dust by suffering; to have a strange woman clean his filth now felt worse than death.
He stared at Shen Li, tears streaming. Just let me be, he thought. Let me rot like this until San-lang is old enough to care for himself, then let me die!
Filled with despair, Er-lang closed his eyes and turned his face away.
Seeing his total collapse, Shen Li thought for a moment and then walked out of the room.
Only then did San-lang find the courage to speak. “Brother, Sister-in-law is good to you. You have to be a good boy!” Even at two or three years old, the child had learned how to read the room.
Er-lang opened his eyes and looked at his little brother. His despair deepened. If I can’t hold on until San-lang grows up, what will become of him?
As he was thinking, Shen Li returned. In one hand, she carried a medicine brazier; in the other, a large bundle. She set the brazier on the floor and opened the bundle beside him. The room was immediately filled with the sharp, pungent scent of medicinal herbs.
He watched, confused, as she pulled out a cloth wrap. When she unrolled it, a row of slender silver needles gleamed in the dim light.
“If I don’t get you clean, how am I supposed to use these needles to treat you?” Shen Li’s voice was indifferent, stripped of any emotion.
But those words hit Er-lang like a thunderbolt, jolting him wide awake.