“Hm?” Luo Wangshu turned toward the source of the sound and saw Mo Li raising his machete. He instinctively stepped back, and a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder. Before he even had time to cry out, the gleaming blade flew past his ear, slicing off a strand of his hair.
Clutching his shoulder, Luo Wangshu collapsed onto the ground in fright. A black, limp, strip-like object dropped in front of him. The moment he saw what it was, his entire body went numb.
“Wife!” Mo Li kicked away the python that was nearly as thick as his calf and crouched down to inspect the wound on Luo Wangshu’s shoulder.
Tilting his head, Luo Wangshu glanced at the snake’s head nailed to the tree by the machete, its jaws hanging wide open. For a long while, he couldn’t recover from the shock.
Mo Li guessed the man had been scared senseless. Without bothering about anything else, he directly tore open Luo Wangshu’s clothes. The wound had already turned purple—he was probably poisoned.
Only after the pain hit him did Luo Wangshu come back to his senses. Biting his lip, he looked pitifully at Mo Li. “What do we do?”
“Don’t be scared, wife. I’m here. It might hurt a little, so bear with it.”
The moment Mo Li said that, Luo Wangshu’s imagination immediately supplied a touching scene of Mo Li sucking the poison out for him. Then the poison would leave his body, but Mo Li himself would die from it…
“Hiss—!”
A sharp pain dragged Luo Wangshu back to reality from his ridiculous fantasy. He saw Mo Li pull the curved sickle from his waist and use the sharpest edge to cut another slash across the wound before squeezing it hard with both hands.
Luo Wangshu bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying.
It really wasn’t his fault his eyes were full of tears. He’d always lived delicately and pampered. Growing up, he’d never even had surgery before, yet now he’d been bitten by a snake and cut open with a sickle. On top of that, the man was squeezing the wound with all his strength. In this world without anesthesia, it was already impressive enough that he hadn’t fainted from the pain.
Mo Li could only do his best to squeeze all the poisoned blood out. External injuries were nothing compared to the venom. Even if the wound got infected, he wouldn’t die immediately. But if the snake venom reached the heart, death would be certain.
Mo Li cut another opening with the sickle and continued squeezing until the blood flowing out turned back to a normal red color.
“Alright, alright, it’s okay now.” Mo Li gently patted Luo Wangshu’s back.
The latter was drenched in cold sweat, his face pale. His lips were swollen red from biting them, his shoulder a bloody mess. He looked utterly miserable.
Mo Li helped him lean against the tree, then pulled the machete free and kicked the snake’s head far away.
“Be good, wife. I’m going to find some herbs. Rest here for a bit.”
Weakly, Luo Wangshu grabbed his sleeve. “When will you come back?”
Mo Li soothingly patted the back of his hand. “Very soon.”
Only after getting an answer did Luo Wangshu let go.
His entire left shoulder had gone numb, and his vision gradually blurred. He bit the tip of his tongue to keep himself awake. He had finally managed to survive—if he died just like this, wouldn’t that be a huge loss?
Luo Wangshu thought he was probably the unluckiest person alive.
First, he’d been framed by his half-brother and fallen off a cliff. Then after arriving in another world, he’d been sold off once again. The only fortunate thing was meeting Mo Li and Mo Fang. And now he’d gotten bitten by a snake for no reason at all.
Did heaven just hate seeing him happy?
When he didn’t think about all these awful things, it was manageable. But the moment he did, Luo Wangshu completely lost control of his emotions. His heart was filled with sorrow, yet he was helpless to change anything.
He saw Mo Li hurriedly running back and saying something to him, but his ears buzzed too loudly for him to hear clearly.
Immediately after, something cool covered the burning wound, and only then did Luo Wangshu regain a trace of clarity.
Mo Li hoisted him onto his back. Realizing they were heading home, Luo Wangshu weakly tugged at a strand of his hair.
“Wife, what’s wrong? Feeling uncomfortable somewhere?”
Luo Wangshu said weakly, “There are mushrooms in the basket… bring them… make soup…”
Mo Li didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. At a time like this, he was still thinking about soup?
Since Luo Wangshu had said it, Mo Li could only find the bamboo basket and take it along. “Don’t be scared. We’re going home.”
Luo Wangshu lay on his back and softly answered with an “Mm” so faint that even he himself could barely hear it.
Cold.
Bone-piercing cold wrapped around him, just like that winter night when everyone else was reuniting with their families.
A tiny figure stood at a crossroads while beautiful yet icy snowflakes relentlessly battered his body.
Curled up in the corner outside a hair salon, he listened to the laughter and happiness drifting from every household.
He didn’t understand why the person his father told him to call “Mom” disliked him.
Why could his older brother act spoiled and throw tantrums at their mother, while he would be beaten and scolded for the slightest disobedience?
He thought that if he behaved well and tried hard at everything, his mother would treat him kindly.
She wouldn’t whip his legs with those long vines.
She wouldn’t burn his hands with cups of boiling water.
She wouldn’t punish him by starving him for an entire day.
His chubby deskmate had once told him that if he ran away from home, his parents would finally treat him better.
So he secretly ran away.
A whole day passed.
No one came looking for him.
“Alright then, take care! Come again sometime!”
The pale golden eyes darkened slightly.
Was this shop closing too?
“Hey, kid. I’ve seen you squatting here for almost three hours now. What’s wrong? Lost?”
He lifted his head and looked at the kindly smiling uncle standing before him. The man’s hair was dyed in all sorts of colors, like a giant peacock.
Seeing that he didn’t answer, the man asked again, “Want me to help you find a police officer?”
He shook his head silently.
The man shrugged indifferently and returned to the shop to turn off the lights and lock the door.
The little boy stared at the now-dark salon as tears streamed uncontrollably down his face, dripping onto the ground and merging with the icy snow.
“Cold…”
“Wife?” Mo Li was awakened in the middle of the night by Luo Wangshu’s murmuring.
The person beside him trembled nonstop as tears slid from the corners of his eyes into his hair.
Cold?
Mo Li thought it was probably because Luo Wangshu had lost too much blood and the snake venom had a cold nature.
Carefully avoiding the wound, he pulled Luo Wangshu into his arms and wrapped him tightly in the blanket until not even a draft could get in.
Only then did Luo Wangshu stop muttering about the cold, though the furrow between his brows never relaxed.
“Hey, kid, don’t cry. It’s cold outside. If you don’t want to go home, why not come inside and sit for a while? I made dumplings. Want to try one?”
A large hand stretched out before him.
After hesitating briefly, he placed his frozen hand into it.
“Wow! Kid, just how long have you been outside? Your hand feels like it’s made of ice!” the man laughed cheerfully.
He lowered his head without speaking.
“Kid, don’t stay silent. Tell uncle your name, alright?”
He bit his lower lip before finally saying three words:
“Luo… Wangshu.”
“Haha, looks like I’ll have to call you uncle instead.”
After thinking about it carefully, Luo Wangshu smiled.
Even many years later, he still remembered that broad hand that had rescued him from endless cold.
Luo Wangshu woke from the heat.
Groggily opening his eyes, he found his entire body sore and weak, unable to move. Steady breathing sounded above his head, while faint daylight seeped through the window.
The confusion in his pale golden eyes gradually cleared.
Right.
The old him was already dead.
Now he was in ancient times.
Luo Wangshu felt half his body numb, and his left shoulder itched slightly.
“Mo Li…” As soon as he spoke, his voice came out hoarse and rough, like sandpaper scraping together.
Mo Li hadn’t been sleeping deeply to begin with, so he woke immediately upon hearing the sound. Still half-asleep, he reached out and patted Luo Wangshu’s arm comfortingly. “Be good, wife. It’s not cold, and it doesn’t hurt.”
What the hell?
Luo Wangshu suddenly felt like laughing, though his condition didn’t really allow it.
“I want water,” he said with difficulty.
Only then did Mo Li fully wake up. His eyes widened. “Wife, you’re awake?”
Luo Wangshu glanced weakly at him. His throat felt awful, and he didn’t want to talk anymore.
Could he just get some water first?
Perhaps Luo Wangshu’s resentful gaze was too obvious, because Mo Li quickly grabbed the prepared bowl of water from the small wooden table nearby and held it to his lips.
After gulping down half a bowl, Luo Wangshu finally felt a little better.
Because he’d sweated so much, the inside of the blanket felt sticky and uncomfortable. He shifted slightly, signaling for Mo Li to loosen his hold.
Only then did Mo Li pull the blanket open a little. Cool air rushed in, and Luo Wangshu let out a sigh of relief.
“How long did I sleep?”
Mo Li tucked the damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead behind his ear. “Two days.”
“…That long?” Luo Wangshu felt like only a few hours had passed.
“Mm.” Mo Li reached out to touch his forehead. The normal temperature made him relax. “Hungry?”
Luo Wangshu checked how he felt and shook his head. “Just thirsty.”
“Be good. Drinking too much cold water isn’t good for you. I’ll go boil some hot water. Wait a bit.”
His deep voice gently coaxed him. Even though Luo Wangshu felt awful all over, he was too embarrassed to keep acting difficult. He only asked softly, “Can you boil a little extra? I want a bath…”
At that, Mo Li frowned slightly and thought for a moment before saying, “Wife, your wound can’t touch water. I’ll wipe you down later, okay?”
Remembering the injury on his shoulder, Luo Wangshu could only nod.
Lying in bed with his eyes wide open, half his body felt numb. His right hand could still move a little though, enough to scratch an itch.
This wasn’t what novels and TV dramas said at all.
Didn’t they always say that once the poison was sucked out, everything would be fine?
Then what was going on with the wound on his shoulder now?
Or maybe he just wasn’t important enough for someone to suck the poison out for him?
Thinking about it that way made Luo Wangshu feel a little better, though his chest still felt strangely blocked, his thoughts messy and chaotic.
Just as his imagination started running wild again, he heard Mo Li’s voice.
“Wife, come on, let’s wipe you down first.”
Mo Li carried in a wooden basin and carefully wiped Luo Wangshu’s face with a damp cloth.
Looking at the serious expression on the man’s face, Luo Wangshu really wanted to ask whether he had actually become stupid.
“Wife? What’s wrong?” Seeing Luo Wangshu staring at him so intently, Mo Li subconsciously touched his own face. Was there something on it?
Snapping back to reality, Luo Wangshu awkwardly shook his head. “Nothing. Why don’t you go out first? I can do it myself.”
Sure, his body was weak, but he himself wasn’t weak. He still had a functioning right hand. It was only his shoulder that was injured—it wasn’t like both his legs were broken.
“It’s inconvenient for you to do it yourself. I’ll do it.”
As he spoke, Mo Li reached out to untie the already-soaked inner clothing on Luo Wangshu’s body.
“Ah? I…” Why did this feel weird?
Luo Wangshu firmly forced all inappropriate thoughts out of his head.
Didn’t the man’s eyes look completely innocent?
Still, this guy kept calling him “wife”…
While Luo Wangshu’s heart was tangled in confusion, his clothes were carefully peeled away, revealing the skinny, chicken-like body he hated most.
Look at Mo Li’s firm muscles, then look at his own—it was simply unbearable to look at.
What Luo Wangshu didn’t know, however, was that the body he found so unbearable looked like a delicious feast in someone else’s eyes.