“Your Excellency, can you be my doctor?”
As he spoke, his breath was hot, and his cold, stern face was overtaken by intense emotions. He was on the brink of losing control, yet there was a hint of final restraint, like a plea or a pure invitation.
“Can you help me?”
Tong Sui couldn’t react as he was pinned back. It wasn’t until he saw Bai Xingluo’s clear, distinct eyes reflecting his figure that he realized how close they were, and his cheeks instantly flushed red. Even though he was slow to understand, he realized that what Bai Xingluo meant was not as simple as it seemed.
Thump, thump, thump.
Tong Sui’s heart raced a few beats faster. Panic and uncertainty filled his mind. He didn’t know what to do, but he didn’t want to see Bai Xingluo in such distress. His brows furrowed slightly.
He had agreed to the system’s mission because he thought it was simply about saving the villain and preventing the plot from unfolding as originally intended. But the system hadn’t informed him about this kind of development. What was he supposed to do?
Tong Sui’s eyelashes fluttered rapidly. And…how was he supposed to treat him?
He wasn’t a doctor and couldn’t prescribe medicine. Tong Sui looked at Bai Xingluo blankly, his ears were burning under his tousled hair, and he asked in a tiny voice, “How do you want to treat it?”
His gentle tone resembled cool creek water, perhaps with a fraction of uncertainty and confusion. But in Bai Xingluo’s ears, it felt like a kind of permissive invitation.
He felt like a dog that had finally shed its leash, approaching its master eagerly for food, pressing close and exhaling warmth into Tong Sui’s face.
“My Excellency, you are my medicine.”
Once he took the medicine, he would feel better. And this medicine was not bitter at all; instead, it had a captivating, fragrant sweetness—smooth and soft, something one would hesitate to swallow even after savoring it repeatedly.
Tong Sui was somewhat dizzy from being nuzzled by the large, affectionate creature. He grabbed at Bai Xingluo in a frantic attempt to stop him. His fair fingers tangled in Bai Xingluo’s silvery hair, which, despite its cold appearance, was surprisingly cool and smooth.
“Lu—Luoluo.”
As he exhaled, a hint of impatience colored his breath. His profile, like fine snow, from his cheek to his jaw and neck, turned a deep shade of red as if he had developed a rash. His skin was delicate, easily reddening from the slightest touch.
Bai Xingluo’s gaze was fixed on the marks he had left behind, feeling a mixture of guilt and determination as he kept his eyes trained on Tong Sui, fearing that a mere blink would let his hard-won prey slip away.
Tong Sui felt his eyes burning. He turned away from Bai Xingluo’s intense gaze and murmured, somewhat wronged and serious, “Y-you’re being too forward; how could I possibly be your medicine?”
Bai Xingluo’s throat bobbed nervously.
His Excellency didn’t understand emotional support, let alone anything else. If he forcefully took what he wanted now, what would happen next? That innocent face would surely show fear and unease upon seeing him, with flushed cheeks and perhaps a faint mist in his eyes.
He didn’t want his Excellency to be guarded or disgusted by him. Despite the turmoil of his spirit escalating his body temperature like it was being roasted by fire or eaten by insects, Bai Xingluo ground his molars and forced himself to withdraw his hand.
The muscles in his arms rippled, veins bulging, as if this slight movement had drained all his strength.
“Don’t be afraid; give me a little time. I will get better, and I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Tong Sui felt a sudden emptiness in his hand.
Bai Xingluo spoke, unsteady on his feet, before moving towards the wall. As Tong Sui still tried to process what was happening, Bai Xingluo pressed a spot on the wall, which began to rotate and slowly revealed a hidden compartment that Tong Sui hadn’t noticed before.
This dark compartment was starkly different from the bright, warm decor of the bedroom. Just a few square meters, the chamber was grim and cold, never touched by sunlight, reeking of decay with a hint of rusty blood.
In the center stood a chilling, black metal cage made of bars as thick as an arm, each one firmly anchored to the ground. Inside the cage was a metal restraint chair bolted to the floor.
Various leather restraints hung neatly and ominously from the dark walls.
How could such a place exist?
Tong Sui was completely stunned.
He couldn’t make sense of the items on the wall or understand Bai Xingluo’s intentions. Before he could ponder further, Bai Xingluo stepped directly inside.
He reached up to take an item off the wall, the sound of metal clashing produced a sharp, eerie echo, glinting coldly in his large, bony hand.
As he lowered his head, a soft clicking sound came from the clasp.
The metal mouthpiece was placed on his face, with dark straps wrapped around to the back of his head, creating a stark contrast with his silvery hair—two extremes that seemed incompatible.
Bai Xingluo opened the cage door with a creaking sound that dragged painfully on the ground.
He walked into that prison, like a beam of silver moonlight swallowed by the darkness.
He bound himself to the chair within the cage, hands restrained behind his back—all of this performed quickly and skillfully, as if he had practiced countless times before.
Tong Sui frowned.
He remembered that in the original plot, Bai Xingluo had a secret that was rarely revealed. He would lock himself in a cage before his spirit lost control, then turn on the high-voltage electricity, subjecting himself to a cycle of momentary high-frequency currents until collapsing in exhaustion.
Using pain and suppression to combat the turmoil of his spirit; this was what Bai Xingluo meant by “I will get better.”