Chapter 135 -

Chapter 135: Chapter

Yimei returned to her bedchamber, carrying the tray with the hot decoction and the thick, fragrant herbal soup. The room was bathed in the warm, quiet glow of the brazier.

Setting the tray onto the low wooden table, she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed beside Zhengyu. Looking down at his flushed, handsome face, a cold, calculating glint flashed in her eyes before vanishing just as quickly.

"I’ll be doing something tomorrow evening," Yimei said, her voice smooth and unbothered. "Don’t be too shocked."

Zhengyu raised a single dark eyebrow, his deep eyes searching her calm face. He could tell by her tone that someone in this compound had brought about their own ruin, but he didn’t pry. "No problem... as long as you don’t get anyone killed."

Yimei let out a small, amused smile at his words. "Drop the book. It’s time for your decoction and soup."

Zhengyu set the leather-bound book aside on the mattress. Taking the bowl of brown decoction first, he drank it down in long, accustomed swallows, unbothered by its harsh taste. But when he picked up the second bowl containing the concentrated fever-reducing soup and took a small sip, his entire face instantly twisted in disgust.

He spat the liquid back into the bowl, coughing and frowning like an aggrieved child. "What on earth is in this?! Why is it so unbearable?!"

"There was no honey in the kitchen, so it is naturally bitter," Yimei explained, her expression utterly flat. "Bear with it and finish it."

Zhengyu stubbornly turned his head to the side, crossing his arms and refusing to take another sip. "I am not drinking that."

Yimei narrowed her eyes, leaning in closer until her breath brushed his ear. "If you don’t take it yourself, I will feed it to you. And it will be through my own mouth."

Zhengyu froze. Instantly, the tips of his ears flushed a dark, violent red as memories of the last time she had forced medicine into his mouth came rushing back. She was truly a shameless, strange woman!

Yimei expected him to scowl and grab the bowl out of fear. Instead, Zhengyu slowly turned his head back, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a bold, defiant glint that took her completely by surprise.

"You are free to do whatever you want," Zhengyu said smoothly, a low, challenging smirk touching his pale lips as he leaned back against the wall, waiting.

Yimei didn’t hesitate for a single second. Accepting his bold challenge without a flinch, she picked up the bowl, took a large sip of the dark, bitter liquid, and leaned straight over him.

Before Zhengyu could even register the shift in her eyes, her soft lips pressed firmly against his.

His eyes widened in absolute shock as she parted his mouth, forcing the warm, bitter soup smoothly down his throat. Zhengyu’s mind went completely blank. He had thrown out those words expecting her to back down or turn red, yet here she was, handling him with terrifying ease. He couldn’t wrap his head around how someone so unbothered, daring, and fearless as Yimei could possibly exist in this world, she never blinked twice and never hesitated before taking what she wanted.

Without giving him a moment to recover, Yimei pulled back, scooped up another gulp of the medicine, and leaned right back in.

As her lips met his a second time, the intense bitterness of the herbs completely faded from Zhengyu’s senses. All he could feel was the soft heat of her mouth against his own. Driven by a sudden, overwhelming impulse, the moment she leaned closer to feed him the last drop, Zhengyu’s hand rose, his long fingers cupping the back of her neck as his mouth gently captured her lips, deepening the kiss.

The room grew dead silent.

When they parted Yimei looked at him and tilted her head, "I thought it was bitter?"

"The medicine is still bitter," Zhengyu said, his voice raspy and low, his hand slowly sliding down from the back of her neck to rest on the bedframe. "It is the person feeding it to me that I do not mind."

Yimei let out a quiet, breathless chuckle, her lips curling into a subtle, dangerous smile. She reached up, her cool thumb gently wiping a stray dark droplet of herbal soup from the corner of his mouth.

"Is that so?" she murmured smoothly, leaning back just an inch, though her dark eyes stayed glued to his. "Then I suppose you won’t complain next time you’re sick."

She set the empty porcelain bowl back onto the wooden tray with a quiet clack. Rising smoothly from the mattress, she dipped a fresh cloth into the bowl of warm water, wringing it out with practiced, efficient movements.

"Enough playing around," Yimei said, her tone instantly shifting back to her usual calm, businesslike demeanor as if they hadn’t just been breathless on the bed. "Your fever is starting to break, but you still need to be wiped down. Hold still."

Yimei loosened the sash of his inner robe and pulled the fabric back to wipe his chest properly. She moved slowly, running the damp cloth over his shoulders and chest while Zhengyu silently watched her.

She moved down to wipe his stomach and legs. The moment her cool, soft fingers touched his bare skin, a sudden heat rose low in Zhengyu’s belly.

Not again, he thought, his jaw tightening as his body reacted instantly to her touch.

Just then, one of the lanterns sputtered and died out as its oil ran dry. The room dimmed, leaving only a single lamp casting a soft, golden glow over the bed.

Yimei set the dead lamp aside and turned back. She saw Zhengyu lying with his eyes tightly shut, having pulled the heavy blanket up to his waist to hide his erection.

Ignoring his awkwardness, Yimei set the damp cloth down and grabbed a small jar of warming balm from her bag. She walked back and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Uncover your legs," Yimei said calmly. "Let me massage them."

Zhengyu opened his eyes and let out a strained breath, silently praying her hands wouldn’t wander any higher.