After treating one hand, Ran Weiyi took his other hand.
The wounds on this hand were equally gruesome.
With the same gentle, meticulous movements, she cleaned, disinfected, and applied medicine to it.
Throughout the entire process, Ye Mochen was like a puppet with all its bones removed, allowing her to handle him as she pleased.
He forgot the pain.
He also forgot the passage of time.
In his world, there remained only the cool ointment on her fingertips and the soothing herbal fragrance emanating from her.
Finally, the wounds on both wrists were treated, the last layer of gauze was wrapped, and a neat bow was tied.
Ran Weiyi did not immediately withdraw her hand.
Her fingertips, following along his gauze-wrapped wrist, gently rested on his pulse.
Her expression instantly became intensely focused, even more serious than when she had been applying the medicine.
Ye Mochen could feel his own blood pulsing rhythmically beneath her soft fingertips.
Strong, yet chaotic.
That familiar, almost sanity-shattering frenzy seemed to stir once more deep within his veins.
But her fingers rested there, suppressing the volcano about to erupt inside him.
In his pupils, her tightly furrowed brows were clearly reflected.
She was worried about him.
This thought instantly soothed the impending resurgence of violence.
He even felt an unprecedented impulse.
He wanted to reach out and smooth the crease between her brows.
After a long while, Ran Weiyi finally released his hand, but the gravity in her expression did not fade.
The situation was far worse than she had imagined.
This was not a single toxin but an extremely insidious concoction, a blend of multiple lost ancient poisons.
These toxins intertwined and catalyzed one another, forming a new, highly potent poison she had never encountered before.
It was like a tangled web, deeply rooted in his limbs, bones, and internal organs, continuously eroding his mind and body, plunging him into endless pain and madness.
Every flare-up of the poison consumed his vitality.
This was not meant to kill him but to make him suffer endlessly, unable to live or die, until he was utterly driven to madness under relentless torment.
How malicious the poisoner’s intentions were! No wonder he died so early in the original story.
“Miss Ran…”
Jiang Pei, his heart in his throat, could no longer hold back. His voice trembled, carrying a hope he himself was unaware of.
“Mo Chen, he…”
Ran Weiyi looked up, meeting Jiang Pei’s worried gaze while also catching the unwavering stare of the man beside her.
She did not answer Jiang Pei, only shaking her head very slightly to signal him to remain silent.
Then, she turned back, her gaze once again meeting Ye Mochen’s deep, ancient-pool-like eyes.
“Ye Mochen,” she called his name softly, enunciating each syllable clearly and earnestly.
Ye Mochen’s long, thick eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly.
“I can cure your poison.”
These six words, spoken lightly, were like a stone thrown into a deep pond, stirring a thousand ripples in the stagnant waters of his heart.
Jiang Pei’s eyes widened abruptly, and he even forgot to breathe.
Cure… it?
So many renowned doctors had been helpless, declaring that Mo Chen would not live past thirty. Yet this Miss Ran actually said she could cure it?!
A faint glimmer finally appeared in Ye Mochen’s lifeless pupils.
That light was ignited by her.Ran Weiyi met his unfathomable gaze and continued.
“But I have one condition.”
His chapped lips moved slightly, yet no sound emerged.
Only those pitch-black eyes stared unblinkingly at her, as if questioning, or perhaps awaiting a verdict.
Facing his profound, bottomless gaze, Ran Weiyi enunciated her condition clearly, word by word.
“From now on, your life belongs to me.”
These words were not a negotiation but a declaration.
The air instantly froze.
Jiang Pei, standing nearby, felt his breath hitch.
What… what had he just heard?
What outrageous words was this Miss Ran saying?
Belongs to her?
Who does she think she’s managing? Managing Lord Mo?!
He stared at Ran Weiyi in shock.
Did she even know who she was speaking to? This was the living King of Hell of the Ye family, the one even the entire Shencheng had to steer clear of!
Was she saving him or staging a coup?!
Yet, the expected scene of thunderous rage did not unfold.
Ye Mochen did not move.
He simply looked at her, the darkness in his pupils so deep it seemed impenetrable.
There was no anger at being offended; instead, a more terrifying, scorching possessiveness surged within.
Belongs to her?
His life?
This realization made his long-decayed heart in his chest constrict violently, then erupt with an unfamiliar yet intense palpitation.
For so many years, everyone had feared him, dreaded him, wished him dead.
Only her.
Only her said she would take charge of his life.
Slowly, the corners of his lips curved upward.
It was not a smile.
It was the satisfied yet dangerous arc of a beast finally finding the chain it willingly allowed around its own neck.
“Alright.” A single word emerged from his hoarse throat.
Jiang Pei’s legs went weak, nearly buckling beneath him.
Lord Mo… actually agreed?
Ran Weiyi’s expression remained unchanged, as if she had long anticipated this reaction.
She tried to withdraw her hand, but he grasped it instead. His palm was scorching hot, his grip astonishingly strong.
This was no longer the passive puppet but a predator locking onto its prey, extending its claws once more.
“My life is yours.”
His voice remained hoarse, yet tinged with a trace of obsessive fervor.
“Then what about you?”
Ye Mochen’s eyes locked onto her fiercely.
“Are you… also mine?”
His possessiveness truly was intense.
Ran Weiyi’s heartbeat skipped a beat.
She clearly saw the violence that had just been soothed in his eyes beginning to stir once more.
Only this time, that violence was no longer directed at the world.
It was entirely, solely aimed at her—a maddening desire for exclusive possession.
She merely lowered her gaze to their intertwined hands.
His palm was burning hot, veins faintly protruding. Her hand, in contrast, appeared even more slender and fair.
She did not pull away. Instead, within his scorching grasp, she turned her hand over and gently, yet deliberately, stroked the back of his hand with her cool fingertips.
A soothing gesture.
“Your poison can’t wait any longer.”
Ran Weiyi lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, her tone returning to the professionalism and calm of a physician.
“The first acupuncture session for detoxification must begin immediately.”
Then, she turned to Jiang Pei, who stood completely petrified nearby.
“Jiang Pei.”
Jiang Pei jolted, snapping back to reality. “Yes! Miss Ran, your orders!””Prepare a completely quiet room. I need a set of silver needles, with all lengths available. Also, have strong liquor, a brazier, and clean cloths ready.”
Her words were spoken at a measured pace, yet each syllable was clear, carrying a compelling authority that was impossible to resist.
Jiang Pei looked at their clasped hands, then at the terrifying light in his master’s eyes, and quickly nodded.
“Yes! Yes! Miss Ran, I’ll prepare everything you need right away!”
Jiang Pei felt as if he had been granted a pardon, nearly fleeing in panic.
He couldn’t stay in this place for another second—it was too frightening.
And yet… it was also too thrilling.