Translator: Lonelytree Editor: Millman97
Cheng Qingchong swallowed the rest of her words. She stared at Su Zhinian, wanting to advise him, but she didn’t dare do that, so she just stood there, completely immobile.
Su Zhinian rubbed his hand to use the friction to warm up the oil. Before he massaged Song Qingchun’s ankle, he noticed Cheng Qingchong was still there. He raised his eyes slowly to glance at her.
His eyes stayed on her for only a moment before he averted his gaze, but Cheng Qingchong could see the heavy warning in that one moment. It sent chills down her spine. Her flight instinct kicked in, and she walked hurriedly toward the exit.
When she was closing the door, Cheng Qingchong heard Su Zhinian whisper in a gentle voice,
This might hurt a little bit, so be prepared. Don’t worry, you’ll feel much better later.
The tone was as gentle as it could be, as if he was worried that speaking one decibel higher would spook the person he was talking to. Cheng Qingchong subconsciously turned back to glance through the sliver of the door that was closing.
Miss Song still had a drawn face, not giving Su Zhinian the time of day. She didn’t even want to look him in the eye. In contrast, the usually graceful and majestic Big Boss didn’t have a trace of annoyance or displeasure on his face. He picked up her ankle and started to massage it softly.
Since many years ago, she knew that in the heart of this man, who she viewed as an entity akin to a god, was a woman that he loved.
Even though all she ever wanted was for him to be happy, every time he did such self-effacing actions before her to please his woman, her heart would crack with sorrow. Cheng Qingchong gripped her fists tightly and channeled her pain to maintain the professional smile on her face as she took one step after another to walk toward the elevator and head upstairs.
…
After Cheng Qingchong left, the room appeared more silent and emptier.
Su Zhinian’s palms were heated, and his applied force was comfortably strong. The massage made Song Qingchun feel incredibly nice and comfortable. It soothed the pain from her ankle.
During the massage, Song Qingchun pulled her gaze back from the window and looked at Su Zhinian. The room was filled with the smell of the carthamus oil.
With his head lowered, he was focusing completely on massaging her injured ankle. Looking at this, her lashes trembled twice, and her hands, which were lying on the armrest, went to her dress and grip tightly.
Su Zhinian finished massaging her ankle, but he didn’t hurry to stand up. With his one knee still on the floor, he raised his head slightly and asked soothingly,
Do you feel better?
Song Qingchun didn’t say anything, but her eyes were red.
Even though Su Zhinian was in physical contact with Song Qingchun, he couldn’t read her mind because she wasn’t particularly thinking about anything. However, he could sense the waves of sadness rolling through her chest. Su Zhinian looked at the redness in her eyes and started to get anxious. He asked in a deeply concerned tone,
What’s wrong? Is your ankle still hurting?
She still didn’t say anything, but tears started to fall from the corner of her eyes.
Su Zhinian’s back was instantly covered with a thin layer of cold sweat. He thought he had injured her, so he asked apologetically,
Did I accidentally hurt you? I’m so sorry.
As he said so, a tear slid down her face and fell squarely on the back of his palm.
