Liu Zhiheng tried to move closer to Duan Wujiu. She crawled up to him and tilted her head, examining him closely.
Hearing someone approach, Duan Wujiu instinctively flinched, cautiously lifting his head. His expression resembled that of a stray dog caught in the rain, unable to find shelter.
His entire face was etched with sorrow. Tears rolled from his eyes, filled with fear and pain, falling one by one and striking Liu Zhiheng right in the heart.
Heaven knows, Liu Zhiheng loved nothing more than a whimpering, puppy-like man. Cry more—she loved watching it!
“Why are you crying? I didn’t bully you. Just now, it was you who was choking me, and I didn’t cry.”
Duan Wujiu’s beautiful hands gripped his own legs tightly, his knuckles turning white as his entire body trembled uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry… I don’t know what I did…” Duan Wujiu lifted his head, meeting Liu Zhiheng’s gaze directly. The corners of his eyes tinged slightly red as he said in a trembling voice, “Sister, please don’t lock me in a cage, okay? I’m afraid of the rats. They’ll bite me.”
The word “sister” melted Liu Zhiheng’s heart.
“Don’t worry, no one will lock you in a cage. As long as I’m here, no one will dare bully you.” Liu Zhiheng tentatively reached out her hand to Duan Wujiu. “I will never hurt you. Don’t be afraid, okay?”
Summoning his courage, Duan Wujiu looked at Liu Zhiheng and hesitantly reached out, grasping her hand.
Seeing that Liu Zhiheng didn’t pull away or push him off, Duan Wujiu smiled, his expression as innocent as a four- or five-year-old child.
“Sister, are you here to save me?”
“Yes, I’m the fairy who came to save you.”
Without warning, Liu Zhiheng felt someone fall into her arms. Duan Wujiu threw himself against her, his tears soaking into her clothes until they were damp.
“Sister, I’m so scared…”
Perhaps infected by the profound sadness of the person in her arms, Liu Zhiheng, who was usually prone to infatuation, found herself free of those strange, tingling sensations.
Liu Zhiheng was also stunned. She looked down and saw tears still clinging to Duan Wujiu’s long eyelashes, trembling slightly, enough to break anyone’s heart.
“No one will hurt you… I’ll protect you…” Liu Zhiheng held Duan Wujiu and whispered comforting words.
Soon, the person in her arms grew quiet. At first, she could still hear faint sobs, but later, only soft breathing remained. When Liu Zhiheng looked again, he had fallen asleep once more.
Could this pitiful, endearing soul really be the same ruthless demon who would later kill without mercy?
But then she remembered that just moments ago, he had nearly strangled her to death. It wasn’t impossible for this pitiful soul to turn twisted in the future.
Liu Zhiheng recalled that in the book, Duan Wujiu seemed to suffer from some kind of Hysterical Disorder, which flared up periodically. However, since he wasn’t the main character, the book only briefly mentioned his condition, without detailing his symptoms during episodes or explaining why he had developed the disorder.
She guessed this must be Duan Wujiu’s episode period.
The person in her arms was unusually quiet. Liu Zhiheng found the silence strange and noticed that he felt unusually warm. She reached down and touched Duan Wujiu’s forehead—he was running a fever.Fever in ancient times was no minor ailment; a slight misstep could lead to death. She couldn’t let anything happen to him—he was her money bag, her guarantee for the next two years of her life!
Liu Zhiheng had no choice but to keep trying to bring Duan Wujiu’s fever down, applying ice and snow to his forehead and wiping his body with alcohol.
Fortunately, by the late hours of the night, Duan Wujiu’s fever had subsided, though he showed no signs of waking up, remaining in a deep sleep.
Liu Zhiheng forced a little more water down his throat before lying down beside the bed in her clothes.
…
At dawn, Duan Wujiu opened his eyes to see a young girl lying beside him.
Her hair was dark as clouds, her skin glowing white, her oval face delicate and exquisite, her lips as red and moist as peony petals. Her long eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if she were dreaming.
Her face was so close to Duan Wujiu’s that her pleasant breath brushed against his skin, yet even at this proximity, not a single pore was visible—she looked like a porcelain doll.
A delightful fragrance filled the air, emanating from the girl, bringing Duan Wujiu an unprecedented sense of comfort and ease.
But who was this girl?
And where was he?
Duan Wujiu tried to think, but a sharp pain shot through his head the moment he did.
…
Liu Zhiheng sensed movement on the bed. Groggily sitting up, she saw that the person on the bed seemed to be awake, frowning in apparent pain.
She immediately picked up a cup of water and considerately moved closer.
“Drink some water. You’ve been feverish for half the night—you must be thirsty.”
Duan Wujiu also felt a burning pain in his throat. Propping himself up, he drank the entire cup of water, feeling slightly better afterward.
He turned to look at the young girl who had given him water, his expression filled with confusion.
Liu Zhiheng also cautiously observed Duan Wujiu.
Last night, he had been acting erratically—one moment threatening to kill, the next weeping pitifully. She wasn’t sure if he would relapse today.
As she watched him, his eyes no longer seemed unfocused like the night before, suggesting he was now lucid.
But weren’t his eyes a little too clear?
How could someone with such eyes be a bloodthirsty killer?
Duan Wujiu looked at Liu Zhiheng, his dark, slender eyebrows lifting slightly. His bright eyes were now filled with confusion.
“Who are you?”
“You don’t remember?”
Duan Wujiu shook his head.
“Then what do you remember?” Liu Zhiheng asked again.
Duan Wujiu tried to recall who he was and who the girl before him was, but the attempt brought a splitting headache.
He shook his head once more.
“I don’t remember anything.”
Liu Zhiheng breathed a sigh of relief. How wonderful—now she could spin any tale she wanted!