Translator: Lonelytree Editor: Millman97
She covered him up with his silk sheets before going into the bathroom to run a towel under cold water. She twisted it dry and placed it over his burning forehead.
The touch of the cold fabric made his brows, which were locked, slightly relax, and the moaning that escaped from his mouth slowly decreased.
Song Qingchun sighed deeply as she pulled a chair over to his bedside and sat down. She stared at his blanched face and mumbled in a low voice,
I’m telling you now, I’m not being clingy or whatever you want to call it. I just cannot allow you to die on the streets; I would help a stranger if I found him or her in your condition. Furthermore, you had done so much for Song Empire.
Speaking of Song Empire, Song Qingchun was reminded of what Zheng Hao had told her, of the one hundred million investment he had put into Song Empire. She couldn’t help but mock the sleeping man before her.
I’d say, you’re one weird individual. How can you be so nice and so horrible when you want to be?
I thought we were becoming fast friends when we stayed together, but the moment the contract ended, you turned around and changed into a complete stranger; what kind of human being can do that?
I told myself yesterday to stop getting myself mixed up with you and have a clean break like you have done, but today…
Why did you have to come to my house? And just so happen to leave behind your clothes? And pick the perfect moment to faint…
Song Qingchun sighed softly and moved her gaze away from Su Zhinian’s face. She spotted one of his legs dangling from the bed. Afraid that it might cause him discomfort, Song Qingchun pulled his shoes off, then ran to the other side of his bed, jumped onto it and pulled his body onto the bed. When she fixed the sheets, she realized his hands were still pressed tightly over his abdomen.
Song Qingchun stopped moving. She noted the unusual force he was applying on it; it was as if he was trying to suppress some kind of pain.
Song Qingchun stared at it for two seconds and felt there was something wrong with it. She gingerly removed Su Zhinian’s hands and realized the spot he had been covering had several traces of blood.
Her heart trembled violently before she unbuttoned his shirt rapidly. Then she saw the large wound on his muscular abdomen.
The wound was deep, and it was filled with numerous stitches. The wound seemed to be healing, and the blood had probably come from the fact he was clutching at it too hard earlier. There was a layer of new flesh, and the sight it made, mingling with the wounded flesh, was eerie indeed.
Song Qingchun felt like her breath was taken away. She stared at the giant wound with bated breath before her brain started to move.
The wound looks fresh, so he was injured only recently. That also looks like a knife wound. It was aimed at the abdomen, probably aiming for the vitals…
Song Qingchun slowly turned her gaze to settle on Su Zhinian’s face. His eyes were still screwed shut.
His lips are as white as his face. No wonder I felt he had lost too much weight when I ran into him at the golf course a few days ago. The sense of sickness around him then was probably due to this fresh wound as well. The reason for his fever tonight is probably this too, right? But when did he suffer this wound? And why? What happened?