“Where did you get that?” Hesse couldn’t help but ask as he caught Yan Chuan’s indifferent gaze.
Yan Chuan replied, “I just scraped it. I’m not sure where it happened.”
He wasn’t very keen on answering Hesse’s question and casually added, “I’m tired, I want to sleep.”
With that, he climbed onto the bed without glancing at Hesse again.
Yan Chuan lay on the bed but couldn’t sleep because his hair was still damp.
Fortunately, it was hot outside, so waiting a little longer would dry it out.
He continued fiddling with his hair, afraid of getting the bedding wet, sitting cross-legged instead.
Anyway, he ignored Hesse completely.
Before long, it was lights out. After a sharp whistle, the lights and hot water were turned off.
By then, Yan Chuan’s hair was almost dry. He folded the damp towel and set it on the railing, just about to lie down and sleep when he caught a glimpse of a faint green light in the darkness.
It looked like a beast in the jungle, fixated on its prey, ready to pounce.
Yan Chuan: !
He then realized it was Hesse.
Seeing such a pair of glimmering green eyes startled him, and he almost cried out.
He wondered why Hesse wouldn’t lie down and instead stood at the foot of the bed.
“What are you doing?” Yan Chuan frowned and lowered his voice, “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”
Only someone as unfortunate as him had to work every day, right?
With that thought, Yan Chuan felt even less pleased.
However, Hesse clutched the blanket wrapped around Yan Chuan.
In Yan Chuan’s puzzled gaze, Hesse spoke.
“Your leg,” In the darkness, Yan Chuan couldn’t see his expression, but he heard him say, “Show it to me again.”
Yan Chuan: ?
The author has something to say:
It’s hard for anyone to refuse a wife.
Chapter 69: Isolation Island Prison 6
See his leg?
Yan Chuan frowned, not understanding Hesse’s intention.
After lights out, there were guards patrolling the corridor; occasionally, a beam of light would unexpectedly shine through the bars, illuminating the cell.
Yan Chuan was afraid of being discovered, especially for this inexplicable reason that Hesse wouldn’t sleep.
Moreover, he had already wrapped himself in a blanket; why would Hesse come to disturb him now?
Yan Chuan pressed his lips together.
“What’s there to see?” He tugged at the blanket but didn’t pull it back from Hesse’s grip, feeling somewhat displeased, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
He didn’t have to get up early to work like him, right?
Hesse, taking advantage of his height and still gripping Yan Chuan’s thin blanket, repeated, “Let me see your wound. Is it serious?”
Yan Chuan was deeper in doubt.
Just to see his wound? Didn’t he already say it was much better?
Yan Chuan instinctively glanced at his leg covered by the blanket, unable to comprehend what was worth looking at.
While he was looking down, a hand suddenly reached over and lifted the blanket off him.
A chill rushed in, and the warmth he had just felt disappeared.
Yan Chuan: !
Why did he lift the blanket directly?
Not only did he lift the blanket, but Hesse also climbed up onto the bed.
The iron bed creaked under the weight, sounding like it could not bear two adults, ready to collapse at any moment.
“What are you doing?!” With the blanket lifted, and now squashed into the corner, Yan Chuan had no pleasant expression left, barely remembering to lower his voice so that the patrolling guards outside wouldn’t be attracted.
His anger flushed his pale cheeks with a tinge of red, turning them a soft pink.
Wearing an oversized shirt, the delicate and fragile Eastern beauty was pushed against the cold wall by a young, fierce man.
The shirt hung loosely, revealing his slender, straight legs that spread apart, with the soft curve of his lower back pressing against the bedding.
Perhaps it was due to being so abruptly violated by Hesse that his eyes glistened with tears; they looked as if the petals of a rose had been dampened by dew, shimmering with a hint of moisture.
Upon closer inspection, his shoulders were trembling slightly.
The tip of his nose wrinkled slightly, and soon the area around his eyes turned red.
His delicate and soft skin shone like jade in the faint light, resembling fresh snow covering the branches. His eyelashes fluttered, and his deep, lustrous eyes sparkled with tears.
As Hesse remained stunned, a thin line of moisture marked his cheek, quickly pooling at the tip of his chin.
Crying?
Hesse became flustered and unsure.
The young man’s brows knitted together, his initially fierce expression replaced by bewilderment, displaying a rare moment of confusion.
Why is he crying?
He had never encountered this situation before, and as he tentatively reached out to wipe away the tears with his fingertip, his hand was swatted away.
The delicate and beautiful Eastern beauty was also endearing when he cried; his deep eyes were filled with tears, droplets falling down and wetting his cheeks.
His large, round eyes, already prominent, appeared even rounder and brighter with tears, and the area around his eyes turned a rosy hue.
His pointed chin was soaked with tears, and a dark patch appeared on his shirt.
Looking pitiable and huddled, he could only lean against the wall and cry.
Still lowering his voice, he dared not cry too loudly.
Yan Chuan was truly infuriated.
Ever since he entered this narrative, he had been continually troubled; he didn’t want to undress to evade the inspection and ended up fainting. At the doctor’s, he encountered a physician with ill intentions, persistently hinting for him to rely on him.
Working was one thing, but he had to run back and forth, pushing a heavy little cart, and passing through the hall while being scrutinized by a crowd with that sort of gaze.
In the assigned cell, there was Hesse, making it impossible for him to sleep well.
The accumulated sense of grievance surged up, and Yan Chuan found himself uncontrollably recalling these events.
In this narrative, he had yet to meet anyone decent; even Lyon, who could share a few words with him, would be found by Hesse to “teach a lesson.”
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