The room was simple. The walls looked like mud bricks, and the ceiling was made of wooden beams covered with thatch and palm leaves.
The floor was paved with a mix of clay and straw.
Inside, there was a wooden bed with straw bedding. On the worn table sat an oil lamp with a glass cover, along with a cup, bowl, and chopsticks.
On a nearby shelf sat a wooden basin.
Two broken low stools were scattered around, and a pile of chopped firewood lay in the corner.
Although the wooden door had been blown away by the wind, the roof was intact and didn’t leak.
It was, overall, a decent shelter.
Seeing that no one was around, Wen Qiao quickly slipped into the space.
The man lay quietly on the ground, still unconscious.
A tree root had fallen to one side.
Wen Qiao breathed a sigh of relief.
Earlier, the situation had been urgent, and she hadn’t thought too much—she had simply brought him inside.
She hadn’t considered how she would explain it if the man woke up inside the space.
Fortunately, he was still unconscious.
Wen Qiao immediately moved him out of the space.
He lay there, barely alive, his face pale, blood still gushing from his legs.
Wen Qiao checked his breathing—it was very faint.
He looked seriously injured.
Outside, the storm raged on. Rescue wasn’t likely to arrive anytime soon.
After a moment’s thought, Wen Qiao filled a cup with spiritual spring water.
Forget it, saving him is the priority.
If the male lead died, where would she go to find support?
Wen Qiao helped him sit up and slowly fed him the spring water.
Seeing that he could swallow on his own, her tense heart finally relaxed.
As long as he could drink it, it was fine.
She tidied the wooden bed a bit and laid out a mattress.
Then she stripped off his mud-soaked military uniform, all at once.
He was covered in filth, whether from the mud or his own bodily impurities, she didn’t know.
Wen Qiao cleaned him while secretly admiring his flawless physique.
His muscles were firm and well-defined.
Each muscle looked like a carefully sculpted work of art, seemingly made to complement his perfect appearance.
His legs were long, straight, and full of strength.
Even unconscious, his entire body exuded raw virility.
Wen Qiao couldn’t help but run her hands over his chest a few times.
Wow!
The texture was smooth, the elasticity of his muscles perfect.
Just looking at him radiated explosive strength.
No wonder he’s the male lead.
The heroine here has it too good.
But sorry, since she was now inside, and the male lead suited her tastes in every way, she had no intention of letting him go.
The heroine can step aside.
Having explored enough, Wen Qiao saw his breathing had stabilized and his color had improved slightly.
Reluctantly, she withdrew her hands.
While he slept, she went into the space for a combat bath and changed into a clean dress.
She also took some food out from the space and placed it on the table.
With the terrible typhoon outside, who knew how long it would last? The only way back had just been blocked by a huge boulder.
For now, they weren’t going anywhere.
Once he woke, things would be much harder to manage.
After tidying up, Wen Qiao moved the tree from the space to block the doorway.
It perfectly stopped the rain from seeping in.
With everything in order, Wen Qiao finally felt her stomach growl.
She had exhausted herself today.
She devoured three pork-and-scallion buns in one go and drank a box of milk.
Not bad—Shen’s mother’s cooking was truly excellent.
Those buns had been made personally by Shen’s mother, who woke early to show her maternal love.
Before leaving, Wen Qiao had taken the remaining two trays, both meat and vegetarian, just in case.
Not knowing if she would ever return to the Shen household, Wen Qiao made sure to take whatever she could.
She went outside to an empty spot and shoved everything into the space.
Still warm.
Full and satisfied, the male lead still showed no signs of waking.
She collected some rainwater, tossed his uniform into a basin, roughly washed it, wrung it out, and draped it over the wooden basin stand.
Then she kicked off her shoes and got into bed.
Naturally, she lay beside him.
Smelling his virile scent, Wen Qiao’s heart began to stir.
They say: “A full belly leads to lust.”
Not false at all.
She snuggled into his warm embrace, ran her hands over his defined abs, even pinching here and there.
Even in his unconscious state, his sexual tension radiated.
In modern times, Wen Qiao hadn’t pursued men casually—if she didn’t like someone, she wouldn’t settle.
So for twenty years, her life had been rather bland.
She hadn’t even touched a man’s hand.
But here, she could enjoy delicacies firsthand.
Might as well indulge.
Anyway, the male lead was unconscious—any extra touching was a bonus.
After enough touching, her smooth face buried in his neck, rubbing back and forth.
Her curvy body pressed against his strong frame, fitting perfectly.
Here a moan, there a moan.
Touching and pinching, rubbing and pressing.
Thoroughly enjoying herself.
Suddenly, Wen Qiao felt something off.
Why had his muscles stiffened?
She tapped his chest a few times with her fingertips.
So hard.
A hoarse voice came from above.
“Had enough?”
Perhaps from being unconscious too long, the man’s voice was low and husky.
Like the edge of the waves, the boundary wasn’t obvious, but it was unexpectedly sexy.
“No…”
Wen Qiao replied, then froze.
Damn, she’d been caught.
No problem—if she didn’t feel embarrassed, the embarrassed one was him.
She slowly sat up, pretending nothing had happened.
Lifting her watery eyes from his side neck, their gazes met.
Wen Qiao was completely stunned.
The man stood like a lone pine on a snowy mountain, radiating an unapproachable chill.
His fair skin seemed brushed by early winter snow, delicate and faintly lustrous.
His features exuded innate nobility.
His deep eyes were like a cold pool—calm yet hiding endless stories, as if seeing through all illusions.
Especially those narrow phoenix eyes, distant and aloof, with a depth like fine obsidian.
When looking at her, they carried a trace of weariness, a hint of coolness, and an assessing gaze.
Wen Qiao’s heart raced—his eyes were stunning, intoxicating with just one glance.
Their eyes met, and Wen Qiao’s lustrous gaze flickered as she smiled brightly at him.
“Uh, don’t misunderstand. You had a fever just now, so I had to use my body heat to warm you.”
Lu Yanchen slowly sat up, eyes lingering on the places Wen Qiao had touched.
His gaze dark and unreadable.
Wen Qiao saw this.
She began to speak with total seriousness.
“Friction generates heat, after all.”
Saying that, she got out of bed, her slender fingers brushing his arm casually.
Lu Yanchen’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing.
Those deep eyes simply watched her calmly, betraying no emotion.
After a few exchanges of glances, Wen Qiao gave him a 99 out of 100 rating in her heart.
The missing point was for fear he would become arrogant.
His appearance, temperament, and voice all perfectly suited her tastes.
She loved this type of cool, aloof, and restrained man.
That’s the kind of man worth teasing.
Lu Yanchen stared expressionlessly at the delicate woman before him.
From the moment he woke, he had silently analyzed her motives, intentions, suspicious behavior, and details.
When this woman had touched, pinched, and rubbed his chest, he had already become fully alert.
He stayed calm, quickly assessing the room.
His gaze paused briefly on the tree root at the door. After a full scan, he had it all figured out.