Wang Cheng’an squatted by the bed, looking at the unconscious Wang Ya, and asked, “What’s wrong with Yaya? Is she sick? Why is there a bloody smell? Qingshui, what’s wrong with your hands? Why are they covered in blood?” He stared at Zhang Qingshui’s hands, his mouth agape in shock. After a moment, he asked, “Qingshui, why is there Yaya’s blood on your hands?”
Zhang Qingshui turned to look at Wang Cheng’an, shook her head powerlessly, closed her eyes, and softly uttered three words: “I’m sorry.”
Wang Cheng’an asked, “Why are you sorry?”
Zhang Qingshui took a deep breath, unwilling to say more. She stood up and walked to the window, gazing out at the pitch-black night.
Wang Cheng’an turned to the people in the room and asked, “What’s going on? Why is Yaya hurt? Who hit her?” He stood up and said, “Tell me who hit her. I’ll hit them back. I won’t let you bully Yaya.”
Everyone in the room fell silent in response to Wang Cheng’an’s questions.
After a long while, Old Tang said, “Brother Wang, Wang Ya is asleep. Let’s not disturb her. She needs proper rest for her injuries. We’ll talk outside.”
Wang Cheng’an didn’t move. He turned to Zhang Qingshui standing by the window. The usually naive and honest man rarely wore a stern expression, his gaze sharp as a knife.
Zhang Qingshui felt the gaze from behind her. She turned around and saw Wang Cheng’an staring at her fiercely, as if he had become a different person.
Old Tang grabbed Wang Cheng’an and said, “Brother Wang, Yaya was in danger earlier. It was Qingshui who saved her life. She didn’t mean to harm Wang Ya. Otherwise, wait until Yaya wakes up tomorrow, ask her first before doing anything, okay?”
Wang Cheng’an thought for a moment, then nodded seriously and said, “Then I’ll wait until Yaya wakes up.” With that, he sat upright on the edge of the bed, guarding Wang Ya, his cheeks puffed out, looking like he wouldn’t budge no matter who told him to leave.
Old Tang persuaded again, “Wang Ya is a young lady. You’re a grown man—how can you stay in a young lady’s room? You need to avoid suspicion. How about we let A’qi watch over Wang Ya?”
Wang Cheng’an glanced at Huang Qi, then at Old Tang, and said, “Qingshui, get out.” He walked toward the door. Seeing Zhang Qingshui hadn’t moved, he shouted again, “Qingshui, come out. Your hands have Yaya’s blood on them. I don’t believe you didn’t hit Yaya. There were only you and A’qi in the room. A’qi has no blood on his hands, and A’qi doesn’t hit people.”
Zhang Qingshui let out a low sigh and left the room.
Wang Cheng’an then called Old Tang out too, saying he was also a grown man and couldn’t stay in Wang Ya’s room. After getting both Old Tang and Zhang Qingshui out, he closed the door and stood at the entrance like a door god, blocking it without moving an inch.
Old Tang sighed heavily and turned to leave.
Zhang Qingshui silently returned to her own room, locked the door, and knelt straight toward the direction of the Zhang Family Old Residence. A single stray thought, indulging in evil desires without restraint—she had committed a grave mistake. Little Qi’s eyes had already made it clear to her that some errors born from momentary impulses could never be fully remedied. And today, she had committed an even greater one. The blood on her hands had defiled Wang Ya and herself as well.
Huang Qi walked to the bedside and reached out to touch Wang Ya. As her hand made contact with Wang Ya’s arm, her perception sharpened, and Wang Ya’s appearance became vividly clear in her vision. Wang Ya’s aura was very weak, as if she had completely exhausted her physical strength and Demonic Power. Her body was covered in wounds; her private areas were soaked in blood, even her thighs were stained red. From her arms to her back and chest, even her breasts were marked with welts from the bindings, the skin broken and oozing blood, with remnants of the Azure Dragon Vine’s spiritual power on the wounds. The Azure Dragon Vine was sentient—the more one struggled, the tighter it bound. From the marks left by the Azure Dragon Vine, Huang Qi could imagine the struggle and pain Wang Ya had endured. Heart aching, she held back tears and whispered soundlessly, “Qing Jie, how could you do this? Were you possessed?” She tucked the blanket properly over Wang Ya and sensed someone blocking the door. From the aura, she recognized it was Wang Cheng’an. Huang Qi said, “I’ll go get medicine for Wang Ya.”
Wang Cheng’an said “Oh” and quickly made way for Huang Qi, asking, “Little Qi, is Yaya hurt badly? Earlier… I saw her die…” As he spoke, his eyes reddened, tears welling up and trembling on his lashes, his lips quivering as if he was about to burst into tears.
Huang Qi said, “Wang Ya is no longer in life-threatening danger. Don’t worry. She’s just exhausted and fainted. A few days of rest and she’ll be fine.”
Wang Cheng’an let out a heavy “Oh,” sniffed hard, and said, “Yaya said not to cry, that people will laugh if I cry like a baby. I won’t let you laugh at me.” As he spoke, he wiped his tears and urged Huang Qi, “Hurry and get medicine for Yaya. I’ll watch over her.” He then drew out his voice and shouted, “Little Qi, thank you!”
Huang Qi gave a wry smile, went to Old Tang and Old Wu for wound medicine, had Old Tang prepare some hot water, and carried it back upstairs to Wang Ya’s room. She first carefully wiped the bloodstains from Wang Ya’s body with the warm water, then applied medicine. The Wang Ya she knew always had a strong presence and aura—even last time when she had been severely injured by the Laoshan Taoists and lay unconscious in her arms, Huang Qi could still feel the oppressive force of that powerful aura and strength. But now, though her breathing was steady, she was so weak it tugged at the heart.
