Rationality and emotion clashed violently, tearing her heart apart.
Mu Xi bit her lower lip hard, using pain to stay lucid.
She forced herself to ignore Ye Lan’s presence, ignore Ye Lan’s warmth, ignore Ye Lan’s breath, straining to pull her thoughts away, emptying her mind, thinking of nothing.
Yet the harder she tried to clear her mind, the more chaotic it became.
Ye Lan’s figure, Ye Lan’s voice, Ye Lan’s scent, like an inescapable nightmare, dominated every one of her senses.
She couldn’t run, couldn’t hide, and could only passively endure everything Ye Lan gave her.
Whether it was the pain, or this fleeting tenderness.
The soft clink of metal broke the dead silence in the room.
The escort team moved quickly, cleaning up the mess. Bloodstains were wiped away swiftly, torn fabric and debris gathered and removed.
They left behind clean, soft clothing and a full set of first aid supplies, then retreated silently, leaving the space entirely to the two in the bedroom.
A faint scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, mingling with the not-yet-dissipated stench of blood and sweat, forming a strange and oppressive atmosphere.
Ye Lan ignored the professional medical supplies. She picked up the warm towel, wrung it out, and then carefully approached Mu Xi.
The warmth touched her face, carrying an unfamiliar gentleness.
Mu Xi’s body flinched instinctively, then she forced herself to relax.
She turned her face slightly, her gaze involuntarily landing on Ye Lan.
Ye Lan’s complexion was pale, almost translucent, with fine beads of cold sweat at her temples. She was clearly pushing through.
A stark contrast to her usual domineering and arrogant demeanor. She wiped away the tear stains and sweat from Mu Xi’s cheeks bit by bit. Her movements were strangely focused, her fingertips trembling almost imperceptibly. That carefulness, as if handling a rare treasure.
Mu Xi watched her, watching her overly pale lips, watching her focused profile, watching her slightly furrowed brow. Every subtle movement seemed to pull at the wound on her back. That wound, even through the fabric, Mu Xi could imagine the torn flesh beneath.
Not long ago, this person had been at death’s door, and now she was here, wiping her clean with such a posture…
The string called “hatred” deep in her heart, after repeated pulling and self-persuasion, seemed to have truly snapped.
As the lingering echoes of the break faded, what remained was not relief, but a hollow ache and confusion.
What was she supposed to do?
She couldn’t hate anymore, yet she couldn’t accept this sudden tenderness with peace of mind.
This brief, unnerving thoughtfulness left her at a loss. Everything Ye Lan gave her, whether the torment of the past or this sudden gentleness.
Her mind was a blur, thoughts surging in and fading out in an instant.
It was all too contradictory, too complicated.
Ye Lan’s fingertips traced across her jaw, bringing a slight tickle.
Mu Xi’s breath hitched, and she forced herself to look away, staring at the new but starkly styled metal headboard beside her.
“Don’t move.” Ye Lan’s voice rang out, hoarse from her injury, yet still brooking no argument.
Mu Xi indeed stopped moving, letting Ye Lan continue cleaning her up.
The warm towel brushed across her neck, sending a faint shiver through her.
Ye Lan’s breath was close, carrying the scent of medicine and her own unique, aggressively invasive presence, wrapping around her from every direction.
No escape, no evasion.
Mu Xi closed her eyes, her long lashes casting faint shadows on her pale face.
Fine, let it be. She told herself.
Since she had decided to live well, to try to love, then she shouldn’t dwell on the past anymore. Suspicion and resentment, besides making herself miserable, meant nothing.
Ye Lan finally finished tidying Mu Xi’s disheveled clothes, ensuring no stains remained on her.
After doing all this, she seemed to have exhausted all her strength. Her body swayed before she barely managed to steady herself against the wall.
Her face grew even paler, her breathing ragged.
“Sovereign!” The escort team captain’s low, worried voice came from outside the door.
Ye Lan took a deep breath, straightened her back, and her voice regained some of its cold hardness: “Come in.”
Two escort team members entered quickly. They saw Ye Lan’s condition, and their expressions immediately turned grim.
One of them stepped forward, wanting to help, but Ye Lan raised a hand to stop her.
“Treat the wound.” Ye Lan ordered curtly, her tone brooking no doubt.
She walked to the chair in the center of the room, sat down, with her back to Mu Xi.
The escort members swiftly opened the first aid kit and cut open Ye Lan’s blood-soaked clothing from behind.
When the shocking wound was fully exposed to the air, even the battle-hardened escort members couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath.
Mu Xi sat on the bed, her back to Ye Lan, yet she could clearly hear the commotion behind her.
The hiss of disinfectant cotton swabs wiping the wound, Ye Lan’s suppressed groans rising from deep in her throat, and the faint clatter of instruments.
Every sound pierced her heart like fine needles.
She gripped the sheets beneath her.
She knew Ye Lan was in pain, immense pain.
That bone-deep searing agony was beyond what any ordinary person could endure. But even so, Mu Xi could feel a gaze fixed firmly on her, scorching hot and fiercely possessive, almost burning through her back. That gaze also carried an indescribable emotion, like the lingering terror of a near miss.
What was Ye Lan afraid of?
Mu Xi didn’t understand, and didn’t want to dwell on it.
She just passively endured it all, enduring Ye Lan’s gaze, enduring the suffocating silence and tension in the room.
The process of treating the wound was long and painful.
Ye Lan never made another sound, only the occasional rapid breaths and ever-tightening fists betrayed the immense agony she was enduring.
But her gaze never left Mu Xi for a single moment.
As if Mu Xi was her only anchor, the only reason she could endure all this.
The scent of disinfectant alcohol and blood had yet to fully dissipate, mixing with the cool breath of ointment, spreading into a strange and oppressive smell in the air.
The escort team members quickly packed up the medical instruments, used cotton balls and gauze swiftly sealed into disposal bags.
Their movements were gentle yet efficient, their eyes carrying both worry for Ye Lan’s injuries and a faint trace of respect for Mu Xi.
After all, this seemingly fragile girl had, in her own way, saved their sovereign.
“Sovereign, we’ll take our leave now. If you need anything, just command.” The captain bowed slightly, her voice steady.
Ye Lan didn’t turn around, only giving a barely perceptible nod.
The heavy metal door closed again with a dull thud, sealing off the outside world.
The room suddenly held only Mu Xi and Ye Lan, so quiet that each other’s faint breathing could be heard, along with Ye Lan’s slightly labored breaths from the pain.
The stagnant air seemed to become solid, weighing heavily on Mu Xi’s heart.
She still sat on the edge of the bed, her back to Ye Lan, yet she could feel that gaze fixed on her again, hotter and more focused than before.
Behind her came the faint sounds of fabric rustling and a chair shifting.
Mu Xi’s heart skipped a beat, her body tensing instinctively.
Ye Lan seemed to want to stand up.
Mu Xi could imagine how difficult her movements were at this moment.
That wound running across her spine, even after being bandaged, could never allow for large movements.
Every breath, every twitch of muscle, would trigger searing pain.
Sure enough, a suppressed grunt accompanied by staggering footsteps came.