Chapter 09
by CasualMTL
Song Qiuguang had never felt such pain in his life.
His teeth chattered, his body trembled, and blood flowed like an open faucet, gushing down. Ruan Zhen squatted in front of him, a sweet smile on his face.
Why him!
He gritted his teeth and lunged with his uninjured hand, but before he could grab Ruan Zhen’s ankle, he was kicked in the shoulder and sent sprawling.
Song Qiuguang screamed in agony.
Ruan Zhen stepped on his injured hand. “Still not talking?”
“I’ll talk, I’ll talk!”
Song Qiuguang gasped for breath. “It was Eldest Brother who sent me to bring you back!”
“Back?”
Ruan Zhen found it laughable.
Shouldn’t the word “back” be associated with “home”?
That dark, terrifying place, a nightmare, didn’t deserve to be called home.
He reached for the scissors, making a motion as if to continue.
Song Qiuguang struggled wildly in fear. “No, no, please don’t!”
“Then why don’t you scram?”
Ruan Zhen lazily curled his lips. “I’ll give you the scissors, no need to return them.”
Song Qiuguang scrambled away, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. Ruan Zhen waited a moment, hearing no other sounds from outside, before he knelt down and cleaned the floor with a wet wipe.
The commotion hadn’t been small, but no one had come in.
It was as if they had deliberately left this space, allowing the two to face off.
Whether Song Qiuguang took Ruan Zhen away or Ruan Zhen overpowered him, the silent villa remained a detached observer, saying nothing.
After cleaning up, Ruan Zhen opened the windows wide. The air still carried a faint scent of blood.
He didn’t like it.
He also didn’t like the strange sensations in his body.
Though his fever had broken, his head now throbbed. He undid his buttons one by one and walked into the bathroom barefoot.
A quick shower, then a good night’s sleep.
Whenever Ruan Zhen had a fever, he tended to feel drowsy, sleeping until the world turned dark and light again.
With the yellow dog by his side and Zhang Laotou cooking for him, he had no worries.
As a child, he loved sweets but was prone to cavities, so Zhang Laotou wouldn’t let him eat much. Only when he was sick did Zhang Laotou add a lot of sugar to the tomato and egg stir-fry.
So Ruan Zhen didn’t mind being sick.
He had his family’s love.
Foam slid down his calves, pooling on the floor. Ruan Zhen closed his eyes, feeling the warm water.
It was so comfortable.
He yawned drowsily, catching a glimpse of the bathtub.
The bathroom was spacious, with a large massage tub at the far end, surrounded by various essential oils and a few cute yellow ducks.
Initially, Ruan Zhen hadn’t planned to use the tub.
After all, it wasn’t his home.
He always felt as if someone might be inside, engaging in some strange play.
This was a melodramatic novel, after all.
The idea was absurd: a family with a father and seven sons, all listed in the contacts.
So he couldn’t be sure about the preferences of the supporting characters or extras.
He hesitated, then shifted his gaze away from the tub.
But a warm soak would be so comforting…
After a moment’s thought, Ruan Zhen yielded to his instincts.
Moments later, he was comfortably dozing in the steamy water.
All the troublesome plots and the young masters vanished, leaving only the gentle aroma and the soothing sound of water to comfort his soul.
Time passed.
Ruan Zhen slowly submerged in the water.
First his hair, then his ears, until only the tip of his nose remained above the surface.
He seemed to lose consciousness, sinking into a deep sleep, his cheeks flushed a light pink, his limbs relaxed, his breathing steady.
“Bang!”
The door was kicked open, and Song Shuling strode in, his face dark, heading straight for the bathtub.
Without hesitation, he reached out and lifted the drenched Ruan Zhen from the water.
“Cough, cough…”
Ruan Zhen’s face was pale, his shoulders trembling as he coughed, but his eyes remained tightly shut.
“Come on, wake up,”
Song Shuling grabbed a nearby towel and roughly wrapped it around Ruan Zhen. “Get up!”
But Ruan Zhen seemed trapped in a nightmare—
The coughing subsided, his arms hanging limply, water droplets sliding down his forearms and dripping to the floor.
Song Shuling’s shirt was soaked, clinging to his chest, his neatly styled hair now disheveled, losing its usual neatness.
He reached out and gently patted Ruan Zhen’s face. “Stop pretending.”
The person in his arms shifted uncomfortably. “It hurts.”
Hurt?
Song Shuling almost laughed.
When he was wielding the scissors so aggressively, he hadn’t flinched once.
Now he was complaining about pain?
“Don’t be a baby,” Song Shuling observed his face. “Can you walk?”
“I can’t,”
Ruan Zhen’s voice was soft. “My body hurts, and it’s very… uncomfortable when I walk.”
He slowly opened his eyes.
His wet, clear gaze met Song Shuling’s face.
“Can you give me the key?”
He extended his hand. “Please.”
The bathroom was still foggy, damp, and stifling.
Song Shuling was silent for a moment, then smiled slightly. “Sure, but I have one condition.”
He maintained his supporting stance, not letting go.
The large towel was about to slip off.
“After I give you the key, you leave here and never set foot in the Song family again.”
Ruan Zhen’s eyes brightened.
Exactly what he wanted!
“Deal.”
He extended his hand to Song Shuling.
But Song Shuling ignored him, stood up, and lifted him into his arms.
After leaving the bathroom, Ruan Zhen was thrown onto the bed, bouncing several times.
He was already dizzy, and now he felt even more disoriented, thinking Song Shuling was crazy.
Couldn’t he be more gentle?
The next second, a silver arc cut through the air.
The key landed on the bed.
“Open it yourself,”
Song Shuling turned away, heading for the door. “You have half an hour to leave.”
Damn.
Ruan Zhen clutched the key, so excited he almost jumped.
Thank you, great lord of the sky. He would never call Song Shuling sick or cruel again!
What a considerate man.
Ruan Zhen’s heart pounded as he found the lock on his waist, inserted the key, and turned it halfway—
“Click.”
The lock opened.
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