Feng Yun’ai was like a lotus bud just breaking the surface of a pond—at the slightest touch from a passing dragonfly, she trembled so violently she lost her bearings, her heart a tangled mess of silk.
Unable to voice a single word of protest, she could only widen her eyes, failing to squeeze out even a grunt of indignation.
She must be twisting my meaning again!
Sure enough, Sang Chencao lay on her side beside her, laughing as she shook her head. “I won’t release you. It’s not that I don’t care if you’re in pain or itching, but if I let you go, you won’t let me feed you your medicine anymore.”
This was exactly what Feng Yun’ai had been hoping for, yet Sang Chencao had seen through her intentions with terrifying clarity.
Sang Chencao closed her eyes and began to rest right in front of Feng Yun’ai. Once her eyes were shut tight, that teasing expression vanished, taking with it half of her ghostly air and leaving her looking uncharacteristically tranquil.
Feng Yun’ai couldn’t turn her body, so she could only watch from the corner of her eyes. She stared until her eyes grew stiff before finally following suit and closing them to rest.
In this cave, they were lost to the cycle of the sun and moon. Staying here, one couldn’t tell when a day began or where it ended.
Feng Yun’ai was accustomed to little sleep. When she opened her eyes, the person beside her was still sound asleep.
Perhaps because the place was filled with water and hidden underground, it was naturally cooler than the world above; she actually felt a bit of a chill.
Fortunately, a warm body lay beside her. Though they weren’t pressed tight against each other, the proximity was enough to ward off some of the cold.
She wanted so much to lean in a little closer, but she couldn’t even curl her body. Her limbs remained paralyzed, and she suddenly found herself envying the woman beside her.
With such a constitution, Sang Chencao feared neither scalding heat nor bitter cold. She likely didn’t need thick robes in winter, nor would she be drenched in sweat during the scorching height of summer.
Feng Yun’ai suddenly froze. A few days ago, she had been oblivious to heat and cold. Now that she could feel the chill, it meant…
Her wounds had healed much more than they had days prior. Her Dantian no longer needed to focus entirely on nourishing her injuries, and as her Internal Power slowly returned, the paralyzing toxins in her system were naturally being suppressed.
However, having lain in this spot for so long, she would have felt numb even without the toxins. By now, she didn’t even feel the jagged unevenness of the cave floor beneath her.
Secretly delighted, Feng Yun’ai looked toward Sang Chencao. A single word unexpectedly forced its way out of her throat: “I…”
The sound slipping past her lips startled her. She realized then that her parched, paralyzed throat had improved significantly; it was no longer as constricted as it had been days ago.
Her tongue and lips could move, though her articulation was still a bit slurred.
Recalling how she had been teased for her speech two days ago, Feng Yun’ai was no longer willing to say more. she clamped her mouth shut and stared up at the cave ceiling.
Her vision was still obscured as if by a thin veil of gauze. It seemed the medicine she had ingested was being funneled entirely into her internal organs and skin, not yet reaching her eyes.
No matter. Feng Yun’ai wasn’t in a hurry to regain her sight. She turned her gaze back to the person beside her.
She didn’t know when Sang Chencao had woken, but the woman was staring at her unblinkingly. Seeing Feng Yun’ai look back, Sang Chencao chuckled. “It seems you’ve improved again. What was Xiuxiu trying to say just now?”
Feng Yun’ai refused to make a sound.
Sang Chencao sat up and took it upon herself to roll up Feng Yun’ai’s sleeves and skirt. Her fingers pressed lightly against Feng Yun’ai’s skin to check her recovery.
It truly was much better. It no longer felt like insects crawling over her; Feng Yun’ai could even trace the texture of Sang Chencao’s fingertips in her mind, sensing the varying pressure as they glided over her.
“More scabs have fallen off. It feels smooth to the touch, no scarring left behind.” Sang Chencao smoothed down the hem of the skirt before moving to pull open Feng Yun’ai’s collar.
Feng Yun’ai stared straight at her, hesitation written in her eyes. A thousand words were stuck in her throat, wanting to stop her, yet she felt that… perhaps… she should just let her.
Sang Chencao looked so closely, leaving out neither shoulder, chest, nor abdomen. She leaned in so near that her half-pinned hair slid off her shoulder, the tips brushing against Feng Yun’ai’s navel.
Like a breeze rippling across a spring pond, Feng Yun’ai’s abdomen twitched slightly.
Why so intimate? Why look so closely?
