Chapter 8 Kneeling as Punishment

Chapter 8: Kneeling in Punishment

Li Wangyue took leave and rested well at home.

Auntie, upon hearing he was ill, grew concerned and carefully inquired about his condition. Learning that his stomach was fine and he could still eat, she specially prepared some easily digestible meals.

She made braised sea bass and stir-fried asparagus. The asparagus was sweet, refreshing, and crisp, while the sea bass was fresh without being fishy, its flesh tender.

To accommodate Li Wangyue's health, the dishes were kept light. Auntie also asked Ting Zhenxi if he needed a separate, less bland portion, but Ting Zhenxi seemed not to want to trouble her.

When Auntie went upstairs to find him, Li Wangyue was in the kitchen boiling water to take his medicine. He caught faint murmurs of conversation—the man's voice was low, slightly hoarse. Li Wangyue had been drowsy and sleeping all morning, and it seemed Ting Zhenxi was catching up on sleep too.

He didn't know how busy Ting Zhenxi was; perhaps he worked late into the night and only slept during the day. Li Wangyue had no right to advise him, so he only hinted at his concern to Auntie, hoping she might check on him.

The room behind Ting Zhenxi had no lights on, only a dim, bluish glow—maybe from a computer screen or some other device.

His eyes were dark and unreadable, his bangs unkempt compared to his usual sharp, efficient demeanor outside, making him seem more at home and relaxed.

As he spoke with Auntie, Ting Zhenxi glanced down. Li Wangyue couldn't make out what he was saying.

A moment later, the door closed again.

Li Wangyue downed the medicine in one gulp. It was a bit bitter, and he frowned slightly, then drank a glass of warm water to wash it down.

He didn't want to be cooped up in his room, so he went out for a walk. Since Ting Zhenxi wasn't coming out anyway.

The estate was huge. Looking out from the terrace, you could see rows of vineyards in the distance. He couldn't tell if they were abandoned or just out of season.

Li Wangyue followed a shaded path. The deeper he went, the stronger the fresh scent of grass became, along with birdsong.

The heavy feeling in his body seemed to melt away.

As he walked, his professional habits kicked in again. He pulled out his phone to take pictures. The entire estate's landscaping was professional and intricate, with many ingenious designs. Li Wangyue studied it carefully, feeling he could learn a lot.

Looking down at the photos, he accidentally noticed a glassy reflection in the corner. He thought it was a lake at first, but when he looked up, it turned out to be a greenhouse.

Why would there be a greenhouse here?

Curious, Li Wangyue wondered if it was a clever touch by the designer.

But he didn't dare approach recklessly. After all, he was living under someone else's roof, and there were many places here he wasn't allowed to go. What if he annoyed them again?

His mind was racing with thoughts, but a drop of water landed on his face. He wiped it off—it was raining.

A light drizzle pattered against the dense foliage, crisp and lingering.

But this wasn't the time to enjoy the rain. He was still sick and absolutely couldn't get wet, or his recovery would be delayed, causing more trouble.

Li Wangyue had no choice, so he lowered his head and hurried toward the greenhouse.

The greenhouse was quiet. It was more of a pavilion than a room, built against the mountain.

One side leaned against the hill, while the other three weren't strictly enclosed, but instead blended seamlessly with the surroundings. The glass ceiling above was like colored glass, which, under sunlight, would make the greenery's colors even more vibrant.

Li Wangyue pulled out a tissue to wipe the rain from his head. He sighed at the rain and prayed it would stop soon.

A faint, subtle fragrance drifted into his nose. He turned to find where it was coming from. The greenhouse housed some fragrant plants. Though there were no large blooms, the simplicity was even more appealing.

Li Wangyue wasn't sure what species they were. He pulled out his phone to search, only to find there was no signal.

The villa wasn't that far away, certainly not enough to be a dead zone.

He refreshed several times but still couldn't get a signal. Maybe it was due to the dense vegetation. Resigned, he took a few photos, planning to look them up later.

This pavilion was unique, echoing the villa's main landscaping style yet distinct. Li Wangyue pondered the designer's intent, finding it an excellent example.

But why was there a pavilion here? For entertaining guests? A personal touch of the villa's owner? Or...

Suddenly, Li Wangyue spotted something familiar.

Vines.

Very understated, not at all conspicuous. If he hadn't seen them many times before, he wouldn't have recognized them.

The fragrance seemed to come from the vines. He didn't know the species and was curious—perhaps a new cultivar, perfect for garden decoration with wide applications.

The rain grew heavier, pounding against the skylight, drowning out the sound of approaching footsteps.

Li Wangyue focused on examining the vines, entwined around supports, pillars of the pavilion, and climbing the mountain wall.

They wove a vast net, as if looking down from above, soft yet firm, exuding an overwhelming pressure.

Holding his breath, he suddenly noticed what seemed like lines of text among them.

Thinking it was a plant label, he carefully reached out to part the vines hanging before him to get a better look.

"Li Wangyue, what are you doing?"

A cold voice sounded behind him.

Startled, Li Wangyue's hand brushed against the vine's thorns, stinging with pain.

Before he could react, the vines beside him seemed to lose their support and collapsed with a rustle.

Li Wangyue's pupils trembled.

The vines fell from their supports to the ground, losing their former grandeur.

He also saw the text clearly.

"Jiang Suwan."

"She rests in the place to which she devoted her life."

This was Jiang Suwan's tomb.

Li Wangyue felt dizzy and nearly stumbled, only to be shoved aside the next second.

He had never seen Ting Zhenxi so emotionally volatile.

The vines hung limply, as if their backbone had been pulled out. Ting Zhenxi carefully tried to prop them back up, but it was futile.

In the rain, the light was dim. Li Wangyue could only see the veins on his forehead and the deep red at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Li Wangyue tried to explain, already panicked, unable to say more.

Ting Zhenxi's chest heaved, as if suppressing some immense emotional turmoil.

He slowly raised his eyes, his gaze as sharp as a sword: "It's not me you should apologize to."

Everything around them was terrifyingly still.

But the rain was loud, so loud that Li Wangyue couldn't even hear his own heartbeat.

Li Wangyue looked down, seeing the mud and rainwater his own shoes had tracked in.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault."

He whispered a weak, hollow apology.

Then he slowly knelt in front of the vine-covered wall.

He didn't turn to see Ting Zhenxi's reaction.

He didn't dare to.

The back of his right hand still had bloody scratches from the thorns, burning, swelling in the open air, and stinging unbearably.

The rain was too loud; he couldn't hear Ting Zhenxi's footsteps leaving, nor did he turn around to check.

He didn't know Jiang Suwan's ashes were kept here, nor that the vines in this flower pavilion were her life's work.

He should apologize, but even a simple apology couldn't undo what he'd done.

Ting Zhenxi hadn't gone anywhere.

He just stood behind him, his fingers gently twined around the hanging vines. With a little pressure, the thorns pricked his fingertips, and a bead of blood welled up, trickling down his finger into his palm.

"You feeling wronged?" His eyes landed on the back of the kneeling man's neck, his voice as cold as ice.

Li Wangyue fidgeted with his fingertips: "No."

What right did he have to feel wronged?

"Then why are you crying?" Ting Zhenxi stared at his profile.

At that, Li Wangyue instinctively wiped his face.

He wasn't crying at all.

He rarely shed tears.

Was it the rain?

"No, you're seeing things." He kept his head down.

In the dark green vines ahead, the man's shoes slowly stepped into view, stopping in front of him. The stark contrast made Li Wangyue bite his lip to stop himself from looking up.

"You're shaking."

Ting Zhenxi's voice came from above, quiet, mixing with the rain. Even with all that noise, Li Wangyue could still pick it out clearly.

Li Wangyue didn't speak.

He was shaking from the cold. He still had a low fever, had been holed up in bed all day feeling crappy, so he decided to go for a walk.

He hadn't expected the nice weather to suddenly turn and a downpour to hit.

He said nothing, not wanting to look like he was playing the victim.

The more he stayed quiet, the darker the man's eyes got.

But Ting Zhenxi didn't say anything either, just stood there in a silent standoff.

After a moment, someone lifted Li Wangyue's chin.

The man held out a jacket, his thumb pressing against Li Wangyue's lowered jaw, making him look up.

Ting Zhenxi's face was expressionless. Li Wangyue looked into his eyes, so dark they seemed to have no light, no pity, no pulse.

Li Wangyue wanted to look away, but it was like he was sucked in, frozen.

Finally, he looked up at Ting Zhenxi, so close, so vivid.

The man's lowered lashes seemed to shroud everything, making it hard for Li Wangyue to see. He remembered that night they met by chance, when he couldn't see Ting Zhenxi clearly either.

Ting Zhenxi's hand was so close, the gesture like pulling a chain around his neck, so high and mighty, yet he looked down at him, making him submit.

Li Wangyue's heart raced, and in the shame, there was a weird sense of anticipation.

Ting Zhenxi's thumb lifted a little, like a reminder.

Li Wangyue snapped out of it, reached for the jacket, and whispered, "Thanks."

The jacket still held his body heat and scent.

It was Ting Zhenxi's usual body wash, a deep cypress scent, clean and aloof.

When their fingers touched, Li Wangyue felt like he'd gotten worse, the low fever spiking. When they parted, his temperature dropped again.

He couldn't figure Ting Zhenxi out.

Why punish him, but then save him?

He kept his head down, eyes fixed forward. Even wearing the jacket of the person he loved, he didn't sneak a single look.

The person he coveted in his mind was watching him now.

But he couldn't see it.

Ting Zhenxi stood in the shadows, under the rain, with the torrential downpour pounding on the glass ceiling, louder than the restless emotions in his veins.

Punishing Li Wangyue was inevitable.

He had entered a place he shouldn't have, touched something he shouldn't have, and made an expression he shouldn't have.

Li Wangyue was cold, shaking, bleeding. Ting Zhenxi saw it all, but in his heart, he felt a strange excitement.

He gently stroked the drooping yet still sharp thorns, slowly tightening his fist. The pain and blood blurred in his palm, rushing to his forehead.

He stared unblinkingly at the nape of Li Wangyue's neck as he bowed his head, wondering about the warmth of that exposed skin.

He thought, kneeling as punishment was indeed insufficient.

He should bind him with thorns, harder, more forcefully, cruelly trapping Li Wangyue within them, making him unable to breathe or move, encroaching inch by inch until his sins and punishment were cleansed.

Ting Zhenxi released his hand, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the blood from his palm, his expression as calm as if wiping away a speck of dust.