Yan Chuan could tell from his husband’s reaction that he really enjoyed being called “hubby.”
Since he liked it… Yan Chuan felt conflicted; could he just let it slide after calling him that and move on from the issue?
With this thought in mind, he glanced at his husband nearby, whose long eyelashes trembled slightly as they hung down.
“Uh-huh,” his husband responded, seeming to acknowledge him.
But he still hadn’t let go of Yan Chuan’s ankle; it was being squeezed tightly enough to hurt.
“It hurts a bit,” Yan Chuan pouted, pulling back his calf slightly to try and remind his husband, “Could you please let go…”
His brows furrowed, he inhaled sharply, showing a pained expression.
His small face appeared somewhat pale, and his eyes were hazy and glistening, obviously feeling uncomfortable.
His husband clearly found this endearing, and despite not applying much pressure, he released his grip and shifted to hold Yan Chuan’s foot gently in his palm.
As if cradling a fragile porcelain piece.
The icy touch of Yan Chuan’s foot suddenly met his warm palm, causing him to shrink away instinctively, his plump toes tapping slightly.
Once he realized his husband was holding his foot, he slightly parted his lips and finally whispered, “I didn’t do it on purpose…”
“Just a little squeeze and you’re in pain, yet you won’t even explain how you got these injuries.”
His husband frowned, his expression almost fierce. With strong features, he didn’t look like someone who would be easily talked to; when he darkened his face, he was quite intimidating, very serious.
Feeling he had done something wrong, Yan Chuan gazed down at the hem of the man’s clothes.
As he recognized his own mistake, his husband’s tone softened a bit, but his actions remained gentle.
“I’ll go get the medicine,” he stated, laying Yan Chuan’s leg flat, trying not to disturb the injuries. “Apply the medicine first, then sleep.”
Yan Chuan nodded silently.
He hadn’t intended to treat his own wounds; the medicinal smell was strong and would be too obvious on his skin. If his husband smelled it, he would have to explain how he got hurt.
Moreover, applying medicine to a bruise involved rubbing it in, which was somewhat painful, and he didn’t have the energy for that. Yan Chuan thought it would be better to endure until he could escape this variety show.
But now that his injuries had been discovered, and his husband was proactively going to get medicine to treat him… Under his husband’s instructions, Yan Chuan obediently laid his calf on the man’s leg.
“Push your clothes up a bit,” his husband indicated. “Let me check if there are injuries elsewhere.”
Yan Chuan hesitated, his fingertips resting on the edge of his pajama pants, unsure if he should comply.
His husband’s request was sincere, yet his pant legs had already gathered up to his thighs, exposing a large area of skin. If he went further up, his nightgown would cease to fulfill its purpose of covering him.
“There are no other injuries,” Yan Chuan fiddled with his fingers, holding down the edge of his nightgown, his posture somewhat defensive. “Just those two places.”
He even extended his hand, showcasing the bruise on his elbow to his husband.
Facing Yan Chuan’s refusal to cooperate, his husband’s attitude grew slightly firmer.
“No,” he said, brow furrowed, a sharp light flickering in his eyes, clearly disapproving. “How can you see if there are any injuries on your back? If this drags on, it’ll get worse.”
“I know you’re afraid of pain, but a bruise left untreated will hurt even more.” His tone was calm. “Or else, you’ll end up crying to hubby about the pain again.”
Yan Chuan: …
What was he saying? That made Yan Chuan blush!
He had never cried while calling for his husband like that!
Even Yan Chuan, no matter how oblivious, could hear the awkwardness in his husband’s words.
The first sentence could be seen as concern for his injury, but the latter was truly a teasing remark.
Laughing at him for being too delicate, unable to bear pain, and returning home to cling to his honest husband while whining.
Remembering how he got the bruise and the involvement of Tang Zhen made Yan Chuan’s cheeks flush even more.
Now, he did seem to embody the character of a fickle person in a script, having had his fun outside and then returning home to be intimate with his virtuous husband.
Even the injuries he sustained outside were to be taken care of by his husband at home.
This was beyond Yan Chuan’s imagination. He pursed his lips and couldn’t resist, retorting somewhat unhappily, “That’s not true.”
“I can take care of it myself…”
He tried to pull his leg back, but just as he moved, his husband’s large hand caught him.
His husband’s complexion was slightly darker but still fair, his palm showing prominent veins; when he applied pressure, they bulged slightly.
His hand was quite capable, making one wonder if other parts were similarly strong.
His knuckles curled as he grasped Yan Chuan’s slim, pale calf, creating a small dent in the soft flesh, which looked particularly stark under the light.
Yan Chuan’s heart skipped a beat as he collided with his husband’s pitch-black, asphalt-like eyes.
He dropped his gaze, softly completing his earlier sentence: “Anyway, you’re still scolding me.”
An awkward silence fell.
Even without raising his head to see his husband’s expression, he could sense he was on the verge of laughing from irritation.
He had gotten hurt outside and, despite returning home and refusing to confess why to his concerned husband, was still throwing a tantrum when it came to treating his wounds—how strange.
In real life, that was quite unreasonable behavior.
But Yan Chuan couldn’t come up with any other reason.
He couldn’t just confess to his husband the truth of what happened while escaping that variety show, could he?
It would be better to let himself become the “ungrateful little villain” rather than the “gentle and loving wife.”
Between pride and survival within this variety show, Yan Chuan knew which one weighed more.
Feeling guilty, he glanced at his husband’s clothing corner, his mouth still muttering, “You don’t care about me at all.”
That was quite accusatory, worse than what his husband had said earlier. Sure enough, his husband frowned, having been diverted from the topic by him: “Why do you say that?”
Yan Chuan continued to spice things up: “Look, when you came home and saw me in long-sleeved pajamas, you didn’t even bother to take a closer look. You only asked after lifting my pant leg.”
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