C84

He smelled of sweat and bitter medicine. He went out to find some water to wash himself and then came back to clean his bed. He sat on the floor in exhaustion, unable to climb onto the bed.

His head hurt so much that he coughed uncomfortably.

When I woke up, I was in bed again, under a clean quilt, my head still aching, burning in every sense.

He was asleep in his chair, his face towards me, his left hand on mine, his right hand on his forehead, and I flinched my fingers and saw that he was subconsciously gripping my hand again.

He was sound asleep and didn't notice that I was awake, and I didn't know when he'd come. He had left in a fit of rage, but he'd come back.

He was very good-looking, and had even more of an air of evil and pride than Xia Junchang. His thin lips were pursed, and his long eyelashes hung down his face like a fan. He was even frowning. Was he worried about sleeping? What was he worried about? Why did he come back?

Am I angry with him, or is he unwilling to let a clown like me die of illness?

I didn't want to find out now, so I just looked at him quietly. He didn't wake up from his sleep because he was too sick and he didn't have that kind of high and mighty aura. His palms were so warm that it spread from my fingers to my heart.

The congealed thing, melting in the moorings like spring water, came out of the snow, and for a moment I didn't think he was that annoying.

Seeing that his eyebrows were twitching as if he was about to wake up, I quickly closed my eyes again and pretended to be asleep.

The faint fragrance of his body enveloped me. His hand covered my forehead with a towel, then he pulled it off. His warm hand covered it directly as he muttered to himself, "It's not that hot after all."

His fingers slid down, and my heart beat faster. The fingers were too hot. They were hotter than my face, so how could I ignore them?

His finger stopped at the tip of my brow and gently rubbed it before moving it away. "Yun Zhiqiu, you are so weak and weak. I really don't know why you are so stubborn."

His fingers caressed my face again. He squeezed lightly, then slid it to his lips. I felt my heart beating so loudly. How embarrassing. If I had known earlier, I wouldn't have pretended to sleep.

He sighed softly, "You really make me unable to think of a way to kill you. I'm like a donkey, yet I have to take two steps back even if I don't want to. I should either use medicine to kill you or torture you to death."

What he said didn't sound good, but it made even his hard heart go soft. He wasn't as bad as I thought he was.

I somewhat despise myself. Even if I am sick, I do not have the right to be cowardly. If he cares about me a little, will I be able to reduce my hatred towards him by a little? What if he ruined my life, ruined my happiness? He is the emperor. I am a palace maid, and when the river meets the spring, it must be brought into the direction of his rushing.

He pinched my face so hard that it hurt. "Yun Zhiqiu! When I woke up, I was furious! I will make you suffer until you can't speak!"

As he dragged himself up against the wall, a bowl of bitter medicine was brought to my lips. "Didn't you say you weren't afraid of pain? "I'll grant you that wish. The more you drink, the more afraid you'll be."

He was concealing something. I looked at his sullen face and felt a sense of satisfaction in my heart.

Holding the bowl in both hands, he sipped it, drank it down, then slipped out of bed to sleep.

He was so angry that his hands were trembling. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Do you think I'm a servant?"

You brought it yourself for me to drink. If I didn't drink it, you wouldn't have been willing to accept it.

Ji Yunshu turned her head to the side and blinked at him. He raised his eyebrows and coldly said, "How dare you treat me like nothing …"

I didn't have the strength to fight him, nor did I want to. I just opened my mouth and said, "It's so bitter."

He stopped talking, and the coldness and fierceness in his eyes dispersed into nothingness. He beamed and said, "My goal is to torture you to death."

I found out he was like a child.

If I told the truth in a cold, proud way, I think he would be embarrassed and would have to strangle me with both hands.

He closed his eyes and searched for sleep. In the midst of his confusion, he called out to me twice, but I didn't reply. His hand slipped under the blanket and grabbed my hand again, and he seemed to say helplessly, "You lazy cat, why are you always sleeping."