Jian Hua gazed deeply into Tong Sui’s eyes.
With a towel in hand, he meticulously dried Tong Sui, almost as if he were applying a glossy finish. Then, he used a dry towel to absorb the excess droplets of water.
Tong Sui frowned but let him continue.
Jian Hua opened the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt that he hardly ever wore. He returned to the bedside, lifting Tong Sui gently.
Tong Sui’s head rested against his shoulder, their body temperatures only separated by the damp fabric of Jian Hua’s shirt.
Jian Hua lowered his head.
His gaze easily traced over Tong Sui’s raven-like eyelashes, moving down to his rosy lips, and the pristine skin of his body.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he donned the oversized white shirt onto Tong Sui.
The hem of the shirt barely covered his thighs, and the sleeves were overly long, giving a comical effect.
Tong Sui felt the constriction of the shirt and stretched his hand to tug at it, crumpling the fabric, but he couldn’t undo the buttons that Jian Hua had painstakingly fastened.
After all of this,
Jian Hua gathered the wet sheets and dirty clothing, replacing them with a fresh basin of cold water.
He pressed the damp towel against Tong Sui’s forehead.
Droplets still clung to Tong Sui’s glasses, fogging them with a layer of mist.
Jian Hua reached over and removed the obstructive glasses.
The skin around Tong Sui’s eyes, slightly thin, glowed with an appealing blush, and his lashes were damp with moisture; he bit his lower lip in a reaction to the high fever.
Jian Hua produced a crystal core.
He took Tong Sui’s hand, pressing the rough pad of his finger against Tong Sui’s palm, placing a shimmering crystal core there.
The core transformed into countless specks of light.
It was absorbed swiftly.
Jian Hua placed another crystal core, which was once again quickly absorbed.
He could be certain now.
Tong Sui’s abilities had awakened.
Jian Hua placed all remaining crystal cores into his palm; it was like a bottomless pit that quickly absorbed them all.
With the energy from the cores surging through him, Tong Sui’s tightly furrowed brows began to relax, and his temperature gradually decreased.
Yet, he still nibbled on his lip anxiously.
Visible bite marks appeared on his lips, reddened as if bleeding.
Jian Hua stared intently.
In a moment of impulse, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against those bite marks.
In his dreams, Tong Sui felt engulfed in a stifling heat, pursued by zombies that seemed to pop out of nowhere, and he ran endlessly.
His throat felt dry, as if on fire.
Suddenly, he stumbled upon cold spring water bubbling up from the ground.
Without a second thought, he drank desperately.
Jian Hua, leaning down, noticed Tong Sui’s response and paused his kissing.
This sparked Tong Sui’s dissatisfaction.
He wrapped his arm around Jian Hua’s neck, pressing down softly.
Jian Hua’s eyes were clouded with emotion; he looked down and kissed Tong Sui’s lips more passionately, quickly reclaiming the initiative.
He searched deeper along the seam of Tong Sui’s lips, exploring every corner.
…
Tong Sui felt as if the spring had morphed into a cold-scaled snake, coiling tighter no matter how he tried to escape.
Finally, utterly exhausted, he sank back into a deeper sleep.
Jian Hua kissed the shimmering droplets on his lashes, tucked him in, then returned to the bathroom.
He rinsed his mouth with a cup of water.
Only then did he take off his soiled clothes and shower.
By the time Jian Hua finished all his tasks and returned to the bedside, Tong Sui was already fast asleep, his cheeks flushed with a faint pink.
Jian Hua reached out to check Tong Sui’s forehead—the high fever had subsided, yet he still had a slight fever.
He pulled over a chair and sat quietly beside the bed, watching him.
Tong Sui had no idea how long he had slept, but once the fatigue wore off, his consciousness began to emerge; he opened his heavy eyelids.
The rain had stopped.
The sky outside restored its normal color.
He gently turned his head.
Jian Hua was sitting beside the bed, resting with his chin propped on his hand. His eyes were closed.
His brow was sharp, and his eye sockets were deeper than most; the arch of his brows cast soft shadows over his eyelids, and even in sleep, he exuded an air of danger.
As if he were a vigilant beast ready to pounce at any moment.
In the original storyline, Jian Hua’s upbringing was always glossed over, painting him as cold and unapproachable.
But he disagreed.
How could a cold person willingly lend a hand to others?
Jian Hua was merely excessively clear-minded.
He was stingy with his emotions, reserving them for meaningful relationships and matters.
As soon as Tong Sui’s hand lifted from the blanket,
Jian Hua opened his eyes, his guard dissipating upon seeing him.
Jian Hua got up, placed two pillows behind Tong Sui’s waist, and helped him sit up. “Do you feel any discomfort?”
Tong Sui shook his head.
“Drink some water first.”
Tong Sui accepted the warm water Jian Hua offered, taking a sip that soothed his dry throat significantly.
“Captain Hua, how long did I sleep?”
Jian Hua opened a thermos kept by the bed, releasing an enticing aroma of food. “It’s already the next day.”
He had actually slept for so long?
Tong Sui recalled his memory before fainting, finding only a blank slate in his mind.
He remembered they were repairing the wall in the rain, worried that Jian Hua would expend too much energy and get hurt.
Then things became a blur.
He struggled to remember, but pain suddenly pierced his mind like needles.
“Ugh.”
Tong Sui bent over.
Jian Hua quickly supported him, “What’s wrong?”
Tong Sui looked up with his glistening eyelashes, helplessly gazing at him. “My head hurts; I can’t remember how I fainted.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you everything.” Jian Hua brought up a bowl of hot porridge. “Eat first.”