Chapter 18: Jealousy

After being blindfolded, there was nothing but darkness.

Upon pushing the door open and entering, the warm, humid steam in the bathroom, mixed with the scent of daisy-scented body wash, rushed to greet him.

Fu Yingcheng called her name while groping around, brushing aside two or three bottles of shower products. His hand landed on wet strands of hair on the floor near the bathtub. Without hesitation, he followed the trail and scooped her up by the crook of her knees.

The weight in his arms was so light that it made him pause for a moment.

As soon as they exited the stuffy and humid bathroom, the cooler air outside hit Ji Fanling, and she woke up.

Her head was still spinning, as if the world was whirling around her.

However, she vaguely realized that she was either experiencing low blood sugar or low blood pressure.

Soaking in the bath had been too comfortable, and she had drowsily fallen asleep. In her daze, she vaguely heard Fu Yingcheng telling her not to sleep and tried to get up.

She moved too quickly. Just as one foot stepped out of the bathtub, the next second, her vision went black, and she collapsed.

The sensations in her body slowly returned as well.

Her knees throbbed with pain, and her elbows hurt too.

She probably hit the bathtub and the floor when she fell.

The heavy, wet strands of her hair were pushed aside.

The cool air rushed in, clearing her mind a little more.

Who was holding her?

…

Ji Fanling opened her eyes.

What came into view was the familiar living room: a cold, gray-toned sofa. Sitting on the sofa was a man dressed in a crisp white shirt. His silver-framed glasses were folded and tucked into the pocket on his chest. The slightly loosened collar revealed the edge of his chest’s contours.

The navy-blue tie that had originally been neatly tied was now draped over the upper half of his face, covering his eyes.

His straight nose propped up the edge of the tie, casting a small, dim shadow.

One of his palms effortlessly supported the entire back of her head, while the fingers of his other hand were slightly bent, as if he had just finished brushing her hair aside. His index finger moved close, lightly touching the tip of her nose.

It was as if he was checking whether anything was obstructing her breathing.

Ji Fanling froze completely.

A wave of shame crashed over her like a landslide or tidal wave.

How could she faint while taking a bath? And faint at Fu Yingcheng’s house, no less! Worse, he had found her, rescued her, and she wasn’t even dressed!

Damn it!

What the hell was this?!

She was sitting on Fu Yingcheng’s lap! Completely naked! And leaning against his chest!

Ji Fanling instinctively wanted to cover herself. Her weak hands feebly shielded her chest and lower body, but it only made her feel like a plucked, pale chicken laid bare on a chopping board.

As soon as she moved, Fu Yingcheng immediately noticed. His voice was low and husky as he spoke: “Awake?”

Ji Fanling’s fingers twitched. “…”

To be honest.

For just a moment.

She wanted to die on the spot.

Without waiting for her reply, Fu Yingcheng’s brows furrowed even tighter. Ji Fanling had no idea what he was thinking, but she saw him pause for two seconds before suddenly pressing the back of her head and leaning in closer.

People who lose their vision often misjudge distance.

The sudden closeness of his face made Ji Fanling feel as if she was about to crash into him.

The man’s tightly pressed thin lips were just a few centimeters away from her eyes.

She could even feel Fu Yingcheng’s breath, carrying a faint woody scent, brushing against her forehead.

Two seconds later.

Ji Fanling: “…”

What the hell!

He’s sniffing me!!

Fu Yingcheng, are you a damn dog or what?!

It wasn’t until Fu Yingcheng pulled back, his fingertips sliding along the contours of her skull as they moved through her hair, that Ji Fanling realized he wasn’t actually sniffing her.

He was smelling for blood.

Sure, her fainting might have been due to her old problem of low blood sugar, but what if she had hit her head?

He couldn’t even be sure whether what was on his hand was water or blood.

…

Come to think of it, a freshly made blood-soaked corpse would be pretty terrifying.

Could he actually think I fell and died…?

Ji Fanling’s heart skipped a beat, and she almost opened her mouth to speak.

The man raised his hand, his broad palm gathering her long hair as he traced along her brow bone, brushing against her eyelashes to check if her eyes were open.

Ji Fanling: “…”

She forcibly swallowed back the words she was about to say.

If Fu Yingcheng realized she was awake but staying silent, he would undoubtedly look down at her, his gaze probing. Then, with a faintly mocking and cold chuckle, he’d say:

“Awake but still pretending?”

“—Impressive. Do you just enjoy being in my arms this much?”

…

This was practically a replay of the disaster from the night Fu Yingcheng carried her back from the hospital!

Ji Fanling’s head was spinning, and her thoughts were much slower than usual.

While she was still trying to process a single thought, Fu Yingcheng’s fingertip had already brushed her eyelashes several times.

It’s actually quite easy to tell if someone’s eyes are open or closed just by touch.

What’s more, she had nervously blinked.

Yet, for some reason, Fu Yingcheng couldn’t seem to confirm it after several tries. The push and pull between his urgent, anxious desire and the restraint of not daring to touch her clashed repeatedly, eventually melding into a low murmur:

“Ji Fanling.”

His cold, raspy voice, laced with a grainy texture, scraped across her eardrums.

The thin calluses on his fingertip pressed against the side of her face, urging her, forcing her to slightly turn her head.

“…Speak.”

Ji Fanling looked at Fu Yingcheng’s face and suddenly had a very strange thought.

If she could see his eyes—

—the gaze behind that tie would surely be burning hot.

She instinctively spoke, “Say what?”

A certain tension, stretched almost to the breaking point, suddenly snapped loose, letting the air flow back in.

Fu Yingcheng’s lips twitched slightly. “Does it hurt?”

“Not much.”

“Where did you fall?”

“My knee.”

“Can you sit?”

Ji Fanling nodded, only to remember afterward that he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

Fu Yingcheng immediately lifted her and placed her on the sofa, seeming reluctant to have too much physical contact with her.

However, after letting go, his arm didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, it paused subtly, as if instinctively staying close to steady her in case she might topple over.

“Wait here.” After confirming she was seated properly, Fu Yingcheng left her with those words and turned to walk away.

When he returned, he was holding a large white bath towel.

Unable to see, he stopped in a slightly off position, standing two steps away from the edge of the sofa.

Ji Fanling strained to reach out, grabbed the corner of the bath towel, and quickly wrapped herself up. “…Done.”

Fu Yingcheng raised his hand and yanked off the tie.

The sudden shift from darkness to light made him squint slightly as his eyes swiftly scanned her.

The girl sat on the sofa, wrapped in the bath towel like a tightly bundled zongzi^[1]Zongzi is a traditional Chinese food made of glutinous rice stuffed with various fillings, wrapped in bamboo, reed, or other large flat leaves, and then steamed or boiled..

Only her head was exposed, with fine, soft eyelashes fluttering as she yawned deeply, like someone deprived of oxygen.

Beneath the bath towel, her bare feet were visible, her slender ankles pale, with a faint pink flush at the joints, damp and glistening.

Fu Yingcheng quickly averted his gaze, twisting the ring on his finger, and suppressing an inexplicable irritation. “I shouldn’t have let you take a bath.”

The sound of a phone ringing interrupted them.

Fu Yingcheng pulled his phone out of his pocket, and Ji Fanling noticed the caller ID: “Yang Mingzhe.”

Fu Yingcheng glanced down at the screen.

Are all psychologists this persistent? Going to such lengths to try and help someone beyond saving.

Ji Fanling asked curiously, “Not answering?”

“Not important.” Fu Yingcheng muted the phone and slipped it back into his pocket before turning to walk away.

“…”

Ji Fanling hesitated for a moment before calling out behind him, “Uh, could you at least get me some shoes?”

When Fu Yingcheng returned, he was holding her slippers in one hand and a cup of milk in the other.

He tossed the slippers onto the floor and held the cup out to her, saying coolly, “Drink this.”

Ji Fanling was momentarily stunned, not expecting this level of care. She cautiously parted the bath towel slightly, creating an opening to reach out and take the cup.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the scars on her arm and instinctively pulled her hand back halfway. “…Maybe, uh, could you bring it a bit closer?”

Fu Yingcheng said nothing, simply extending the cup toward her again.

Ji Fanling struggled for a while but still couldn’t reach. Internally, she thought, I’m hesitant because I’m barely dressed—what about you, are you also naked? She looked up and froze.

Fu Yingcheng was holding the cup, but his gaze wasn’t on her. Instead, it rested somewhere in the empty space of the living room.

His jawline was sharp, and his eyes were a deep, quiet black.

Something brushed gently against Ji Fanling’s heart, a feeling so subtle and soft that it was impossible to describe.

She lowered her gaze and stretched out her hand to take the cup. “…Thanks.”

“Finish it and then go back to your room.”

Fu Yingcheng turned to leave, paused for a moment, and added in a cold tone, “So you don’t catch a cold and pass it on to me.”

“…”

*

Fu Yingcheng walked back to his bedroom. And, at the sink in his en suite bathroom, he splashed his face with water and rubbed it forcefully.

The water rushed out in a torrent.

He leaned on the sink with both arms, with the veins on the back of his hands bulging. His eyes were downcast, his breathing heavy, and large droplets of water dripped from his chin, splashing onto the counter.

The face in the mirror looked completely different from a moment ago.

The cold indifference and calmness were like a still water surface shattered by a stone, ripples giving way to the storm beneath. In the depths of his dark eyes, emotions surged. Self-reproach, anger, violence, panic, and a deeply buried fear… like a cold serpent slithering up one’s spine, flicking its icy tongue.

During the time she had lost consciousness, the long-sealed scars were torn open once more, bleeding anew, the sharp pain overwhelming, enough to drive anyone to the brink of losing their sanity.

Fu Yingcheng walked to the bedside, pulled open a drawer, and took out a bottle of medication. He poured a few pills into his palm and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them without water.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he covered his eyes with one hand, slowly steadying his breathing.

After a long while, he exhaled, opened his eyes, and put the bottle away.

Suddenly noticing something else, the calm in his eyes was disrupted once more, giving rise to new turmoil.

On his thigh, there was still a lingering damp mark.

The dark fabric of his suit pants made the wet stain particularly conspicuous.

…A trace left behind from when she had sat there.

The damp, warm, and soft sensation lingered in his mind. The moisture from her body had seeped through the fabric, pressing against his thigh.

And then there was her skin.

Against the dark fabric, it must have been an arresting contrast of stark white.

…

Fu Yingcheng closed his eyes briefly, then stood up to find a cigarette.

*