Ouyang Ruobing, with her tall and slender figure, was a perfect match for Nangong Yehen, who stood nearly 190 cm tall. Leaning on his arm while wearing high heels, she was almost as tall as he was. Chu Lingzhi pursed her lips. At 165 cm, she was spun around by the 176 cm Ouyang Ruobing’s bump.
“Get lost! Don’t touch me!” Suddenly, Nangong Yehen’s low, furious roar echoed through the entire living room. He violently shook off Ouyang Ruobing’s hand and shot her a fierce glare. His dark, piercing eyes carried a hint of disgust and anger.
Ouyang Ruobing’s heart felt as if it had been stabbed by a sharp blade, and she looked at him with deep pain. A trace of blood stained the corner of his mouth. It was the first time Ouyang Ruobing had seen him so disheveled and weak. Her aching heart was laced with fear and panic, and her voice trembled as she said, “Nangong…”
Chu Lingzhi was initially startled by his roar but quickly snapped back to reality and stepped forward to support him. Her petite frame made it less smooth to hold him up compared to Ouyang Ruobing. “I’ll help you back to your room. You shouldn’t go upstairs until your wound heals,” Chu Lingzhi said, her expression not as frantic as Ouyang Ruobing’s. Still, it was easy to see her worry and concern for Nangong Yehen. She guided him step by step down the stairs.
Nangong Yichen stood in the living room, watching him nervously. His complexion was awful, and his lips were pale. This version of Nangong Yehen was truly heartbreaking.
At that moment, Nangong Yehen felt terrible, with beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. “Did the bump hurt you?” he asked, lowering his gaze. His eyes seemed veiled with a mist, deep and unfathomable. “…No,” Chu Lingzhi frowned. He was coughing up blood, yet he still cared whether she was hurt from the bump?
Standing there, Ouyang Ruobing watched them with a pained expression. Nangong Yehen’s last words cut through her heart like icy blades, making it bleed and weep. He loathed her so much that he wouldn’t even let her touch him. Even in his own suffering, he remembered to ask if Chu Lingzhi was in pain. He had truly, completely fallen for Chu Lingzhi.
Before they could reach the room, Nangong Yehen collapsed into unconsciousness. His tall, heavy body nearly crushed Chu Lingzhi. Huo Luan quickly caught him and helped him into the room, laying him face down on the bed. Chu Lingzhi urgently performed acupuncture to revive him. Aside from some oozing blood, the wound was not serious and posed no threat to his life. But Nangong Yehen’s extreme weakness began to unsettle even the usually composed Chu Lingzhi. From his pulse, she diagnosed once again that he was suffering from an invasion of cold toxin. The severity of the condition had caused his sudden collapse. Without proper treatment, his meridians and bones would be damaged.
If he were an ordinary person with such an illness, the harm wouldn’t be as great. But as a martial artist, damage to his meridians would leave him feeling utterly drained. Just like now—so weak it was heartbreaking.
After tending to his wound and finishing the acupuncture, Chu Lingzhi sat on the bed, gazing at Nangong Yehen with a complicated expression. If he were just an ordinary person, even with a severe illness, she could cure him given enough time. But he was the king of two cities. If outsiders learned how weak he was now, they would surely seize everything he had.
Last night, she hadn’t been certain whether he truly had cold toxin invading his body. Now, she was sure. She and her grandfather had encountered such a case many years ago. She vividly remembered that boy’s condition, and Nangong Yehen’s symptoms were identical—perhaps even more severe.