Throughout the journey, Huo Yan watched their intertwined hands with an unreadable expression but made no move to pull away.
Sitting on the park bench, Sang Yu placed Huo Yan’s hand on her lap and began studying the medication instructions. The warm, soft sensation of her thigh seeped through the thin fabric onto his hand, sending an inexplicable tremor through his numb fingers.
Huo Yan watched Sang Yu as she bent over the instructions, then glanced at where his hand rested. His expression remained neutral as he pressed his tongue against his teeth, his gaze deepening. For a moment, he suddenly wanted to grip those legs, to verify if they were truly that soft.
Zhang Qile was always going on about “legs worth playing with for years” and which classmate had slender, attractive legs. Previously, Huo Yan had found such talk tedious, but now he grew curious—Sang Yu’s legs were so slender, were they really…
Before Huo Yan could continue that train of thought, Sang Yu finished reading the instructions. Carefully cradling his hand, she first used a tissue dipped in disinfectant to wipe away the bloodstains, then squeezed ointment onto her index finger and gently applied it to his wounds.
As she applied the ointment, she blew softly on the injuries. From Huo Yan’s perspective, he could only see the faint redness at the corners of her eyes and her meticulous care, as if handling some priceless treasure.
Something pricked at Huo Yan’s heart—not sharply, yet impossible to ignore. The bloodstains suddenly seemed less offensive.
“Don’t do this again!” Sang Yu looked up, her expression torn between distress and anger. “People like that aren’t worth you getting hurt over. It pains me to see you injured.”
Huo Yan laughed coldly. “It pains you? Where does it pain you?”
“Everywhere hurts… Stop moving!” Sang Yu firmly held his hand in place and glared at him. Her soft eyes held no intimidation—instead, the lingering redness gave her glare an unexpected charm.
She looked down at the wound that had finally stopped bleeding, only to see it bleeding again because of Huo Yan’s fidgeting. Annoyed, she nearly poked it with the ointment tube but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Then, in an impulse that surprised both herself and Huo Yan, she leaned down and gently licked away the fresh blood.
The warm, damp softness was strikingly distinct. Huo Yan’s eyes darkened slightly, feeling a tightness coiling in his lower abdomen.
This sensation was more thrilling than when he’d seen Wang Yang trying to get handsy with Sang Yu. The difference was—back then, he’d only wanted to kill Wang Yang. Now, his heart raced wildly as he watched Sang Yu, feeling something primal stirring from the depths of his being.
Something unfamiliar. Something mad.
When Sang Yu looked up after her impulsive act, she recognized the look in Huo Yan’s eyes. She’d seen that same gaze countless times in her previous life when he’d pinned her down—a look that always made her heart tremble with fearful anticipation.
Huo Yan’s Adam’s apple moved visibly.
He knew he couldn’t stay any longer, or he couldn’t guarantee what he might do.
Before he could withdraw, Sang Yu spoke again. Her voice remained soft and delicate, but now carried a newfound seriousness.
“Yan Ge, no matter what happens, I’ll never betray you. Never. So you must take care of yourself, and you must cherish your own well-being.”
Huo Yan froze, his heart roiling with turbulent waves because of Sang Yu’s words before gradually calming down. He suddenly found it somewhat amusing.
Forever? How old was she to be talking about forever and never betraying him?
How much credibility could such a promise really hold?
At this moment, Huo Yan wanted to leave—at the very least, he didn’t want to face Sang Yu. Because he clearly felt that somewhere in his heart was collapsing because of her words.
Huo Yan withdrew his hand, stood up casually, and cast a lazy glance at Sang Yu. His dark eyes fixed on her as he said coldly, “Betrayal?”
He let out a cold laugh but didn’t say anything more, turning around and striding forward.
“Huo Yan!”
Sang Yu called out to stop him, not in a hurry to prove herself because she knew how heavily guarded Huo Yan’s psychological defenses were. Gaining his trust wouldn’t happen overnight.
Sang Yu tilted her head, puffing her cheeks and blinking. “Brother Yan, you haven’t paid me for the medicine yet.”
Huo Yan frowned, pulling a hundred-yuan bill from his pocket. “Is this enough?”
Sang Yu shook her head, taking out her phone and opening WeChat. “Brother Yan, I tend to lose cash easily. Add me on WeChat and transfer it to me.”
“…”
Huo Yan stared at Sang Yu with a heavy gaze, but her expression remained unchanged, full of innocence.
In the end, Huo Yan still added Sang Yu on WeChat. In that moment, he didn’t quite understand why—he knew it was just one of Sang Yu’s little tricks, yet he agreed anyway.
Sang Yu shoved the medicine into Huo Yan’s arms, telling him to make sure to apply it. Only after Huo Yan’s figure disappeared from her sight did she turn and head home.