Chapter 34

Chapter 34

With that, Luo Qianyu looked away.

He had no idea how much time had passed before his ankle was suddenly grasped.

His foot was lifted from the hard floor and settled onto a lap. His boot was peeled off, and his white silk sock came into direct contact with a slightly warm palm. The heat transmitted through the fabric and skin, causing Luo Qianyu to go rigid.

The last person to have taken off his shoes and socks so abruptly and cradled his foot was Lou Xian. Back then, he hadn't been able to resist kicking the person. But now, he was the one who had suggested it. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he could only barely endure it, suddenly regretting having told Wen Yu to apply the medicine for him.

Apparently satisfied there was no injury on his foot, the man's hand moved, lifting the hem of his trousers.

Slightly cool air washed over his skin.

There was a hot water bottle warming the blanket beneath, but it was early winter in the capital, and the carriage did little to keep out the cold. A shiver ran over his exposed skin, but the Young Marquis remained silent.

When fingertips grazed over his calf, Luo Qianyu finally couldn't help but open his eyes. He was about to call a halt and order the man out of the carriage when he caught sight of Guard Wen holding a medicine jar, his movements freezing.

Following Wen Yu's gaze instinctively downward to his own legs, Luo Qianyu's face fell as well.

...No way?!

He admitted, and was well aware, that over two hours had been too long, and not wearing kneepads had made it worse. But the current state of his legs looked... far too alarming.

It was much more severe than what Lou Xian had seen that time.

Judging from Wen Yu's expression, it was clear his top-scoring scholar-turned-guard hadn't anticipated this either. Even without words, the mutual silence allowed him to vaguely discern what the other was thinking.

He really was... delicate and pampered.

Luo Qianyu felt embarrassed, pursed his lips, his expression turning unpleasant. He tried to pull his foot back. "Let go, I won't apply it anymore!"

Wen Yu was taken aback.

For some reason, he suddenly recalled the night Luo Qianyu had infiltrated his residence with guards. Back then, he had been forced into signing the indenture contract. Afterwards, those guards hadn't relaxed; instead, they looked anxious, paying no mind to anything else, only worried about their young master's persistent high fever.

Later, he had been carefully instructed: "The Young Marquis prefers gentle persuasion, dislikes forceful confrontation. In the future, when you interact with him, Guard Wen, you must absolutely avoid applying pressure."

"When dealing with the Young Marquis, you need to go along with him. Use gentle words and patience, guiding him subtly and gradually. Guard Wen, please bear with him more."

Summarized, it came down to two golden rules:

Responds better to softness than hardness.

Everything depends on coaxing.

At that time, he had listened with cold disdain, and thought to himself that if he were to serve in the future, he would certainly not indulge such habits.

But now, seeing the injuries on Luo Qianyu's knees clearly, Wen Yu also understood deeply that this person was fragile and pampered, a hothouse flower needing careful tending. If left unattended now, it would cause lasting damage: sores and chills in winter, blood stagnation in summer. If it truly became a chronic ailment, even prolonged kneeling or activities like archery or riding would be greatly affected.

Yet, this had nothing to do with him.

Before Luo Qianyu could successfully break free, what first drifted into his nostrils was the faint medicinal scent of the jade ointment. His ankle was held by the now-free hand, holding it fast, and then he heard Wen Yu say:

"I'll be gentle."

Luo Qianyu hesitated for a moment, half-believing, half-doubting. "N-no... not okay."

But this time, he wasn't able to struggle for long. A hand coated with the jade ointment lightly touched his kneecap, and a cool sensation instantly washed over him.

Luo Qianyu clenched his jaw, a sound nearly escaping him.

The slightly trembling, pinkish-white curve of his leg, and the reddened calf below the knee, were all attended to one by one. Wen Yu was clearly someone who knew how to care for others. His technique in applying the medicine was skilled, his movements neither too heavy nor too light, meticulous and even, the pressure perfectly measured.

Yet, after all, these were injuries he himself hadn't dared to touch. No matter how gentle the action, the pain that had to be endured wasn't diminished in the slightest.

Luo Qianyu's breathing hitched for an instant, his posture nearly unsteady, unable to sit properly, let alone suppress any sounds. In a short while, fine beads of sweat had already formed at his temples. He turned his head aside, his long, jade-like fingers curling, pressing against his lips.

He endured and endured, but ultimately found it difficult to persist.

He wanted to withdraw his leg, but one hand firmly held his foot in place.