Chapter 71 “What Should I Do with You.”

Chapter 71: "What Am I to Do With You?"

But such fawning, bordering on self-abasement, only earned Xie Yan’s prolonged, ice-cold stare. With just the slightest movement of his lips, he could instantly reduce me to utter humiliation.

"Let go. I'm busy today."

His words were dripping with blatant malice and deliberate neglect. I knew that all his actions from the previous night were not driven by passion but by a calculated revenge against me. Yet, I still felt wounded and disheartened by his cold, unfeeling words.

Last night, Xie Yan had treated me like some shameless harlot, to be toyed with at will. I was even afraid that he might pull out a stack of silver notes from his sleeve this morning and hurl them at me.

Feng Jiuyue, how much longer are you going to humiliate yourself?

Thinking this, tears silently rolled down again. I released my grip on his sleeve, burying my tear-reddened face entirely into the embroidered quilt. I listened as the sound of his wheelchair moved toward the door, my heart sinking bit by bit, plunging into an endless abyss.

Only when the door closed with a click did I finally release my tightly clenched teeth, allowing myself to burst into sobs.

The grievances of being bullied and the aches and pains throughout my body left me feeling utterly lost. I had made many mistakes, and I was willing to make amends, but why did Xie Yan torment me all night yet refuse to even stay and sleep with me afterward?

In his eyes, am I now lighter than grass?

Every part of my body ached terribly, with no spot left untouched. Last night, Xie Yan had been like a bloodthirsty wild beast, sinking his teeth into every piece of flesh he could reach. I cried and tried to push his head away, but my hands were ruthlessly bound behind my back, leaving me helpless to endure the heart-piercing pain along my spine.

I desperately wanted to bathe, to wash away all the lingering marks, but my throat was already hoarse from so much crying, and I couldn’t make a sound. Even if I could, perhaps no one would care. With this bleak thought, I forced myself to endure the discomfort and put on the clothes I had taken off the night before. But as soon as I lifted my leg, I soiled the bedding, my face flushing crimson with shame. Xie Yan always knew exactly how to make me feel most humiliated.

I had to clean myself, or I would fall ill again. Struggling, I climbed down from the daybed and tried to make my way to the door, but suddenly a dizzy spell hit me, and I collapsed straight onto the floor.

In my daze, a burning fever consumed my body. With what little consciousness remained, I desperately pressed against the carpet, trying to find the strength to stand.

But all my energy had been exhausted in the struggles of the previous night. I opened my mouth, struggling to call out Xie Yan’s name, but the room was too vast, and no one came to my rescue. Xie Yan hated me, always tormenting me—he would surely not come to save me. The thought brought an unbearable sorrow, and even my consciousness began to blur as I hazily closed my eyes.

I dreamed many dreams. I dreamed I was a small flower, roasting and burning in a scorching furnace. My delicate petals were seared by raging flames, and the heart of the flower gushed with fragrant sap, its fragile life extinguished in an instant of agony.

I also dreamed of Xie Yan from three years ago, when we were still together. Though he appeared cold on the surface, he showed a bit more patience when I fell ill.

During that time, I had caught a cold and was bedridden. He supervised me daily as I took my medicine. I often secretly poured the decoction into flowerpots behind his back, but when Xie Yan found out, he insisted on watching me drink it in person; no amount of whining could sway him.

I would even throw fits with him over taking medicine.

But now, why would Xie Yan care about my life or death? The thought made the heavy, suffocating feeling in my chest grow even heavier, as if a massive rock were pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.

If no one discovered I had fainted, and Xie Yan never found the time to check on me, would I just die like this? Perhaps this was the outcome Xie Yan wanted.

With complete despair, I waited for death, but suddenly I felt my body lighten. A cool towel was placed on my forehead, and I narrowed my eyes in relief. My entire body burned like a blazing fireball, and the damp towel felt like a respite from the agony.

An old voice spoke up hesitantly in the room.

"This... Your Highness, if you cover the young master so thoroughly, not allowing me to touch or examine him, how can this old one treat the young master?"

As soon as the words fell, the hand carefully wiping my sweat paused and withdrew from my face. Xie Yan seemed to hesitate for a moment before yielding, "Take his pulse."

A silk handkerchief was placed over my wrist, and the elder’s fingers gently pressed against it. After a moment of contemplation, he quickly withdrew his hand as if I were a scorching hot potato.

"Um," the elder’s voice carried a hint of awkwardness, "Your Highness, in the future, you must be more careful when... being intimate with the young master."

"The young master’s constitution is unique. He was born prematurely, has a weak physique, and suffers from asthma. You must be gentler, or else the young master will suffer greatly, as seen today with his fainting and high fever."

"Moreover, the young master’s... passage is naturally narrow and underdeveloped compared to ordinary people. Your Highness, due to your lineage, is exceptionally gifted. The two of you are not well-matched. If such activities are to occur, utmost gentleness and care are necessary."

"Lastly, if the remains are not cleaned properly, the young master’s fever will not subside. This old one must also examine the specific condition of the young master’s body. Your Highness, would you prefer I examine him, or will you handle it yourself?"

"I will."

Xie Yan answered swiftly, reaching out toward me. In my daze, I half-opened my eyes and met his cold gaze. I grabbed his hand in refusal, "I won’t let you look."

I had already lost all dignity and felt I could never face anyone again. The elder must think I am some disreputable person. The thought made me want to cry again. With tears in my eyes, I stared at Xie Yan, gripping his hand tightly and insisting, "I don’t want you to look."

My repeated refusals angered Xie Yan. His expression turned cold, and he asked impatiently, "Then should I let the military physician examine you?"

Xie Yan’s stern face always carried a hint of fierceness. Fearfully, I shrank back, tears dripping onto his hand. I shook my head lightly, resisting, "I don’t want anyone."

The persistent fever had left my mind muddled. Overwhelmed by grievance and panic, tears and runny nose covered my face. I no longer cared about anything, rambling nonsensically.

"Don’t look, no looking, no, no."

Xie Yan and I remained locked in a tense standoff. The military physician, sensing the tension, was about to intercede on my behalf when Xie Yan suddenly waved his hand and conceded, "Physician, step outside for now. I will call you back in."

The sound of the door closing brought me some relief, and I even released Xie Yan’s hand. He cast a cold glance at me and said, "Now, let me see."

I nodded, resigning myself to fate, and buried my head in the quilt, allowing Xie Yan to proceed. Finally, I understood the meaning of "every second feels like a year." After his examination, Xie Yan pulled my face out from the quilt, pinched my feverish cheek harshly, and sneered, "Aren’t you afraid of suffocating yourself?"

"The physician may come in now."

I quickly turned my face toward the wall, my ears burning with embarrassment. Xie Yan’s voice came from behind me, calm and detached, as if discussing something utterly mundane despite the deeply private and humiliating matter. "There’s bleeding and swelling in the front, and tearing in the back."

"I see. Then, Your Highness, please clean the young master and apply this ointment afterward. The ointment must be applied daily for a month to ensure full recovery."

"If such activities are to occur again, the front will need half a month to heal, the back a full month. However, this old one suggests that Your Highness might find it more suitable to seek another partner. The young master’s flesh is too delicate to endure such strain."

With a doctor's kindness, the military physician went on with many more instructions. Xie Yan occasionally acknowledged them before having an attendant escort the physician out to prepare the medicine.

"How long are you going to keep pretending to sleep?" As soon as the physician left, Xie Yan moved his wheelchair closer to the bedside and addressed me coolly.

"I’ll never be able to face anyone again," I wept toward the wall, my tears drenching the pillow, stubbornly refusing to turn and look at him.

Lost in my sorrow, I paid no heed to Xie Yan’s indifference. The room was filled only with my accusations, sobs, and the sound of Xie Yan wringing a towel. "Turn around."

"No," I stubbornly refused.

"One."

"Two."

Before Xie Yan could say "three," I abruptly turned around, crying hysterically and accusing him tearfully.

"Why did you have to let others know? You did it on purpose—to bully me, to humiliate me."

I had completely forgotten that Xie Yan was no longer the person he used to be. I confronted him with the same tantrum-throwing attitude from the past, hoping he would kiss and hold me, and coax me like he once did.

But I was wrong.

Initially, Xie Yan’s expression had been relatively calm. He had always been stoic, rarely showing emotion. But as soon as I finished speaking, I saw disgust and impatience flash across his face. The towel in his hand, still warm, was thrown to the ground. His gaze turned unfamiliar and distant in an instant.

"If bedding a cripple shames you so much, then clean yourself up and apply the medicine on your own."

Before I could fully grasp his meaning, he wheeled himself out of the room in obvious anger, slamming the door shut with a deafening crash.

Xie Yan was truly furious this time.

I stared blankly at the medicine bottle he had thrown onto the bed, thinking of his impaired legs, and cried uncontrollably. Why did I always mess things up? The persistent fever and overwhelming guilt tormented me, pushing me repeatedly into unconsciousness. How could I take care of myself? Without Xie Yan, I was utterly helpless.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean to make you angry."

Even in my sleep, I was apologizing to Xie Yan.

"What am I to do with you?"

After a long sigh, a warm, damp cloth fell upon my cheek, wiping meticulously with tenderness and compassion. A cool sensation soothed my injured skin, and the grime was gently removed by slender fingers.

Believing it was a dream, I instinctively pressed my cheek against the slightly cool palm and murmured Xie Yan’s name. But the person did not respond to me, and everything seemed as perfect as a dream.