"How was this young master's performance last night?" Nangong Yehen held the maid in his arms, teasing her with a wicked grin.
"Very good." The woman's voice carried a hint of shyness and embarrassment.
"Want to try again tonight?" His hand caressed her face.
"Yes..."
"Believe this young master will be even fiercer tonight than last night?"
"...I believe." The woman in his arms rolled her eyes, goosebumps rising on her skin.
Nangong Yehen's lips curled into a satisfied smile, his gaze deep and unfathomable.
"This young master hasn't spoiled you for nothing." He pinched her chin and gently pecked her lips.
Chu Lingzhi looked into his eyes. Damn it, how much longer did he have to keep this up?
She gave a shy smile, her cheeks flushing. "Young Master Nangong, not here."
"Fine." The man lowered his head again and kissed her lips.
Chu Lingzhi cursed inwardly. Playing along with this act was costing her—this bastard was taking advantage of her.
He wrapped his arm around her as they stood, his smile lewd and utterly wicked. "Back to this young master's bedroom. I'll make sure you enjoy it to the fullest."
They walked arm in arm into his first-floor bedroom.
As soon as the door closed, Chu Lingzhi pulled away from his embrace, lowering her voice. "How do you feel?"
Nangong Yehen pressed his lips tightly together, his expression grim.
Chu Lingzhi grew worried. She locked the door, closed the windows, and drew the curtains.
She pulled a medical kit from under the bed, turned back to him standing motionless, and urged, "Hurry and lie face down on the bed. Let me check your wound."
Nangong Yehen frowned, staring at her coldly.
"Young Master Nangong..."
"Pfft..."
Suddenly, a mouthful of blood sprayed from Nangong Yehen's lips.
"Young Master Nangong!" Chu Lingzhi panicked, tossing the medical kit onto the bed and rushing over to steady his swaying body.
"Lie down now!"
She helped him to the bed and made him lie face down.
"Pfft..."
Another gush of blood sprayed out, splattering the pillow and sheets like eerie plum blossoms.
Chu Lingzhi was frantic and tense. She stripped off his clothes and tore away the gauze, revealing a wound oozing blood that was shocking to behold.
Her heart clenched painfully, and tears nearly spilled from her eyes.
"Why are you putting yourself through this?" Chu Lingzhi choked out.
She took out raw aconite powder and sprinkled it over the wound.
Applying this powder required care—raw aconite was toxic, and the dosage had to be precise.
Not long after the powder was applied, Nangong Yehen, whose entire back had been throbbing with pain, felt a numbness spread through him, followed by a loss of sensation.
Having held on for so long, with no outsiders present, he deflated like a punctured balloon, utterly weak and pale.
Even so, he possessed a sickly beauty, still strikingly handsome.
He smiled faintly, his voice weak. "Your performance just now was excellent."
He loved her shy demeanor, and even more, the feeling of holding her.
If only she were this obedient in normal times.
"Of course, acting has to be convincing." Chu Lingzhi shot him a glare.
She sat down on a chair and took his pulse, her expression turning serious.
Nangong Yehen looked at her. "What's wrong?"
"Why is your pulse so weak?" Chu Lingzhi frowned, studying him.
"I'm weak right now."
When a person is weak, how could the pulse not be?
Chu Lingzhi took his other hand; the pulse was still very faint.
This weakness wasn't the kind caused by injury-induced frailty, but rather a deficiency from a cold constitution.
Tonight's meal, he had only made a token effort to eat some seafood and had two glasses of brandy.
It couldn't have triggered a cold toxin invasion into his body.