Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Uncle Wang hadn’t chatted about flowers with anyone in a long time. He talked with Zhong Yansheng for quite some time before letting him go, even cutting the best blooming flower without hesitation and smilingly handing it over to him.

Xiao Nong’s eyebrows twitched; he could confirm that Uncle Wang truly liked Zhong Yansheng.

Yesterday, when Uncle Wang returned, he found his precious flower bed trampled and was heartbroken, even taking out a knife.

Just now, Zhong Yansheng had apologized heavily to Uncle Wang for damaging the flower bed, but the old man didn’t get angry at all. Instead, he even picked his most treasured flower to give to Zhong Yansheng.

No one usually dared to pick Uncle Wang’s flowers casually.

Zhong Yansheng put the flower seeds given by Uncle Wang into his sleeve pocket, carefully tucking them away. He then chatted with Uncle Wang for a while longer, completely forgetting the shock he had experienced earlier in the room. The lingering fear was also suppressed. Returning to the wheelchair, he handed the fully bloomed flower to Xiao Nong, his beautiful, affectionate eyes curved, more radiant than all the flowers in the courtyard: "Brother, this is for you."

He was quite good at offering flowers as a gesture of goodwill.

This little sparrow said he was pushing him to admire the flowers, but ended up chatting happily with Uncle Wang.

Xiao Nong didn’t refuse, slightly bending his index finger to tap the armrest of the wheelchair: "Let’s go."

His eyes were medicated, and even with white gauze covering them to block out light, he couldn’t stay in the bright sun for too long.

The sun was indeed intense, and Zhong Yansheng’s head felt hot, his cheeks slightly flushed. He turned to wave goodbye to Uncle Wang, rubbed his fingers, and prepared to continue pushing Xiao Nong’s wheelchair.

Seeing his effort, Zhan Rong timely intervened, taking over Zhong Yansheng’s task.

Zhong Yansheng’s hands were red and sore from pushing the wheelchair, so he secretly breathed a sigh of relief and obediently followed the two men.

He originally thought they would return to the small courtyard, but unexpectedly, they went to a new room this time.

A faint doubt arose in Zhong Yansheng’s mind.

Wasn’t this compound a bit too large…?

Entering the room, Zhan Rong handed the wheelchair back to Zhong Yansheng and stood guard outside the door.

Zhong Yansheng pushed Xiao Nong into the inner chamber. The room was much cooler, and there was a bowl of warm medicine on the table.

Xiao Nong seemed to have anticipated this, casually picking up the dark, bitter medicine and drinking it without any change in expression. He then wheeled himself to the bedside and leaned back onto the bed.

After drinking the medicine, he felt both pain and nausea. If he moved around too much, he might even vomit.

Noticing Zhong Yansheng still standing by the table, looking at the empty bowl, Xiao Nong clicked his tongue: "Come here."

How could he be so slow? Had no one taught this little sparrow how to serve others?

Zhong Yansheng snapped out of his daze, responded with an "Oh," and obediently walked to the bedside, his nerves relaxing. After a moment, he subconsciously caught a whiff of the scent on Xiao Nong’s body.

It was a faint sandalwood fragrance mixed with the bitterness of medicine, a cold and distant aroma.

He couldn’t help but glance at Xiao Nong’s legs, wanting to ask about his condition and whether he could ever walk again… but he feared offending him and touching on his pride.

So he closed his mouth.

Xiao Nong called him over but didn’t speak, just quietly leaning against the headboard.

Standing motionless in front of the bed for a long time, Zhong Yansheng’s calves began to ache and tremble.

Unable to resist, he bent down to rub his knees, sneaking a peek at Xiao Nong. Seeing no reaction, he observed for a moment, then waved his hand in front of Xiao Nong’s face, only to realize that his adoptive brother was breathing steadily and deeply—actually asleep!

Zhong Yansheng: "..."

He thought Xiao Nong had called him over for something, but it turned out he just wanted him to watch him sleep?

The Marquis Huai'an always said he was lazy and slept a lot, but he wasn’t this much of a sleeper.

Feeling a bit wronged, Zhong Yansheng wanted to wake Xiao Nong, but he didn’t have the courage.

As his spirit relaxed, the abdominal pain that had been ignored for a long time resurfaced. Zhong Yansheng gasped, feeling better when he forgot about it, but the pain became severe once he remembered. He dared not breathe deeply and sought a more comfortable position, slowly hugging his knees and sitting by the bed, his chin resting on his arms, curled up into a ball, waiting for Xiao Nong to wake up.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting a bright glow on the floor, reflecting into his eyes, making it easy to feel drowsy.

Zhong Yansheng hadn’t slept well last night. After watching for a while and listening to the steady breathing above him, his head nodded, and he curled up by the bed, unknowingly falling asleep.

The guards outside waited for a long time without hearing any sound, unable to resist peering in through the window: "?"

Asleep??

Xiao Nong was certain he had only intended to close his eyes and rest, using the little sparrow’s scent to slightly rejuvenate his spirit.

But he actually fell asleep.

Unconsciously sinking into deep slumber, upon waking, the headache and the pain from the medicine had vanished, leaving him refreshed and clear-headed.

However, realizing he had lost consciousness next to an unfamiliar young man made his face turn grim. He immediately got up, grabbed his sword, and sharply turned his gaze toward the head of the bed… but saw nothing.

Lowering his eyes, he noticed a fuzzy black head.

Xiao Nong was momentarily speechless, moving to the side of the bed, bending down, and tilting his head to look. The young man was leaning against the headboard, his head buried in his arms, breathing lightly and soundly asleep.

Curled up into such a small ball, pitiful and forlorn, as if he had been mistreated by someone.

Staring at his soft hair, Xiao Nong recalled the touch of a snow-white sparrow landing in his palm in the snow-covered mountains.

He wondered who was softer between the sparrow and this young boy.

Xiao Nong stroked his chin, observing for a long time, confirming that Zhong Yansheng was simply sleeping, finding it somewhat amusing.

If this little sparrow could deceive both his and Uncle Wang’s eyes simultaneously, he would indeed be one of the greatest geniuses in the world.

The shadow of killing intent in his eyes gradually faded. Xiao Nong glanced down at the sword in his hand and casually tossed it onto the bed, then leisurely leaned against the bedside.

The voice was not loud, but very close. Zhong Yansheng's body trembled, startled awake.

Xiao Nong, arms crossed, waited for his reaction. After a while with no movement, he raised an eyebrow.

Then came a low, sharp intake of breath, a pained exclamation.

Maintaining such an awkward posture throughout the night, every bone in his body seemed to rebel upon waking, especially the pain in his abdomen, which became increasingly clear.

Pain made Zhong Yansheng's ears buzz, afraid to move, vaguely hearing someone speaking. After a moment, he finally recognized the voice, its tone indiscernible: "I told you to stay by the side, yet you dared to slack off."

Pain made Zhong Yansheng hold his breath for a moment, his voice as thin as a thread: "Brother... my stomach hurts so much."

The call tugged at one’s heartstrings.

Xiao Nong's composed demeanor paused; seeing his pain did not seem feigned, his brows involuntarily furrowed: "What happened?"

Behind the gilded facade of the Zhong family, the ugliness within was shocking to hear.

Could this child have been poisoned?

Zhong Yansheng's face was deathly pale, his breathing shallow. He clung to the bedpost, struggling to stand, trembling fingers unfastening his belt, peeling off layer after layer of his light blue outer robe and white inner garment, revealing a segment of waist white as snow.

Even through the hazy veil, Xiao Nong could still feel the warmth and smoothness of that skin, like flawless white jade.

With the clothes off, this time it couldn't be a misunderstanding, right?

Xiao Nong raised an eyebrow.

Zhong Yansheng didn't look at him at all, pulling open his inner garment, gasping and looking down at himself with tears in his eyes.

On his soft belly, a large, terrifying bruise had appeared, black and purple, stark and ghastly against his snow-white skin.

Xiao Nong: "..."

So it wasn't poisoning or faked pain.

Was it from being beaten harshly?

Zhong Yansheng kept drawing breaths, helpless and bewildered: "It seems I hit something when I fell off the wall yesterday, but there was no bruise at the time?"

Xiao Nong fell silent again.

A bump or a scrape, how serious could it be?

Such delicacy, it's not a big deal if no limbs were broken.

He pinched the bridge of his nose hard, seeing Zhong Yansheng's face so pale, frightened by the bruise that he dared not even breathe, silently retrieving a green bottle from a hidden compartment in the bed, and tossing it over.

Zhong Yansheng, caught off guard, was hit squarely by the bottle, looking up blankly.

Before Xiao Nong could scold him for his slowness, he saw Zhong Yansheng's eyes widen, round and wide like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, staring at him in disbelief, lips parting and closing, a look of having suffered a wrong but not daring to speak, his eyes saying, "I'm in so much pain, and you throw things at me!"

Xiao Nong felt his head ache again.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and patiently said, "Medicine."

Zhong Yansheng slowly looked down at the green bottle on the carpet, realizing his misunderstanding, feeling a bit embarrassed, obediently called out, "Thank you, brother."

Xiao Nong responded indifferently.

The secret guards hanging outside the eaves, always watching the room: "..."

This didn't kill him?

This didn't kill him!

Zhong Yansheng was very sensitive to pain. While others could endure seven parts of pain, he could only bear three. Slowly bending down to pick up the bottle, he straightened up just as cautiously, handling himself gently.

Watching him slowly unscrew the cap, unable to use force due to his abdominal pain, he winced and tried several times without success, resting a bit, then gathering strength to try again.

Xiao Nong almost laughed.

He didn't offer help, instead crossing his arms and watching with interest. When Zhong Yansheng finally managed to unscrew the cap, his fingers touched the milky white ointment, hesitating as they approached the bruise, trembling as if encountering resistance, taking forever to touch it.

A master repairing precious porcelain wouldn't be more careful.

Xiao Nong had never seen anyone so hesitant in his life. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore, grabbing Zhong Yansheng's wrist and pressing it down without mercy.

Zhong Yansheng hissed, both from the pain of his finger touching the bruise and from the touch of the hand pressing it.

The hand felt as cold as ice, almost as frigid as the chill in an icehouse, making him shiver.

In his palm, the warmth was completely different from his own, the slender wrist fragile, easily breakable.

Xiao Nong paused for a moment, quickly releasing his hand.

...Just like the warm, soft, and fragile little sparrow that had landed in his palm.

Looking up, he saw Zhong Yansheng's worried expression: "Brother, your hands are so cold, are you sick?"

The handsome youth's gaze was sincere, staring at him without blinking, genuinely concerned about his health.

After a moment of eye contact through the thin veil, Xiao Nong lazily leaned back against the headboard: "Apply your medicine."

Zhong Yansheng obediently lowered his head to continue applying the ointment. After the first application, he gained courage, proceeding more smoothly.

The bright light filtered through the thin white veil, casting a faint, holy glow around Zhong Yansheng in Xiao Nong's eyes.

A young man in his late teens, with delicate and handsome features that still retained a hint of youthful innocence, his fingertips even tinged with a faint pink as they gently smeared the milky white ointment across his taut, snowy abdomen. The scene was... too much to bear.

Xiao Nong averted his gaze, his tone suddenly turning harsh. "Hurry up and finish, then get out."

Zhong Yansheng was puzzled by his unpredictable mood, responding with a sullen "oh," and hastily rubbed the ointment on before handing back the round bottle. Xiao Nong made another gesture—this time Zhong Yansheng understood it meant he didn't need to return it.

Brother really isn't as hard to get along with as he seems, giving him the medicine specially!

Does this mean their relationship has improved a little?

Zhong Yansheng's heart felt suddenly light, the last vestiges of fear dissipating, his face breaking into a sweet smile, like a spoonful of honey, completely unaffected by Xiao Nong's coldness. "Thank you, brother! I'll bring you some pastries tomorrow!"

Worried that Xiao Nong might refuse, and remembering the dismissal, he quickly put away the medicine bottle, eager to leave, not even bothering to straighten his disheveled robe.

Who cares about pastries? Who wants a few measly pastries? Xiao Nong could no longer hold back. "Put your clothes on properly!"

Author's note:

Tiaotiao: Brother gave me medicine, brother is good.

Xiao Nong: Don't know why I'm so angry, but I am.

Analysis of the thin veil over Xiao Nong's eyes: It gives Tiaotiao a soft-focus filter (not really).