Chapter 67 -

Chapter 67: Chapter

These men were the guards Yimei had asked Xiao Jun to send her earlier. She had used them to kidnap Zhengyu in the first place, and now they were here to take them back to the inn.

They just stepped forward, grabbed Zhengyu roughly, and tossed him into the back of the simple carriage like a sack of rice. They loaded their bags just as quickly.

Yimei climbed in right after him and sat down, fixing her dress like everything was completely normal.

The guards slammed the carriage door shut, jumped onto the front seat, and started driving the carriage down the snowy road toward the inn.

Inside the carriage, it was quiet.

Zhengyu sat on the bench, rubbing his shoulder from the rough toss. He stared at Yimei with wide eyes, completely confused. He looked at her, then out the window at the tough men driving them, and back to her again.

He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but then closed it quickly. He didn’t know whether he should ask her questions or just keep his mouth shut so she wouldn’t try to kidnap him again.

The snow fell heavily outside, the cold wind blowing through the cracks of the carriage. Zhengyu shivered, wrapping his cloak tightly around his body. The icy air hit his legs hard, making them stiff, numb, and painfully cold.

Seeing him wince in pain, Yimei set Grandmaster Zhang’s book down on the seat.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the small jar of warming herbal salve the doctor had given her for when his legs got bad.

Without asking for permission, Yimei slid off the bench and knelt on the floor right between his knees.

Zhengyu’s eyes went wide. His heart skipped a beat, and his ears turned bright red as he looked down at her. "What... what are you doing?"

Yimei didn’t answer him. She simply reached out and took hold of his waistband.

Panicked, Zhengyu quickly grabbed her wrists, his hands trembling. "Yimei! We are in a moving carriage!"

Yimei raised her eyes, looking directly into his with a calm, unbothered stare. Slowly, firmly, she pushed his hands out of the way.

"Stop moving, Young Master. Unless you want your legs to freeze up completely," she whispered softly, her voice smooth and teasing.

Zhengyu’s breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t move a muscle as Yimei slowly slid his lower trousers down, exposing his bare thighs to the chilly air.

She scooped a generous amount of the rich salve into her palms, rubbing her hands together until they were warm. Then, she placed her warm, soft hands directly onto his cold skin.

Zhengyu let out a soft gasp as her warm fingers began to massage his upper legs, slowly working the oil down toward his knees. The sudden heat sent a shiver straight up his spine and this time, it wasn’t from the cold.

He bit his lower lip, turning his red face away toward the window, but his hand reached out and gently gripped the cloth of her shoulder as she continued her slow, warm strokes.

Yimei kept her hands moving steadily over his skin, but she couldn’t help teasing him.

"You act so tough out in the world, but inside you’re just a total softie," she complained softly, massaging the warm oil into his muscles. "How is a small massage painful? Can you even feel pain in these legs yet?"

When he didn’t snap back at her with his usual witty remarks, Yimei paused. She looked up, fully expecting to see him glaring at her, but froze.

Zhengyu’s entire face was bright red. His cheeks were burning, his ears were glowing pink, and his mouth was parted as he stared wide-eyed at the carriage ceiling, trying desperately to breathe normally.

"What is wrong with—"

Yimei began to ask, but her words died in her throat. As she shifted her knees on the carriage floor, her gaze naturally dropped a little lower.

Right under his soft silk upper robes, where her hands had been pressing close to his inner thighs, a very obvious bump was starting to rise.

The carriage went completely silent, except for the heavy sound of the wheels crunching through the deep snow and Zhengyu’s shallow, embarrassed breathing.

Yimei’s hands stayed frozen right on his legs, her eyes glued to the sudden change in his lap.

Zhengyu quickly squeezed his eyes shut, throwing a hand over his face to hide his burning cheeks. "Don’t... don’t look," he croaked out, his voice thick and completely flustered. "It’s... the blood circulation is just returning! Grandmaster Zhang said the medicine boosts blood flow!"

A slow, playful smirk began to curve up the corners of Yimei’s lips.

Yimei didn’t pull her hands away. Instead, her smirk deepened, her eyes sparkling with pure, wicked amusement.

"Oh? Blood circulation, is it?" she asked smoothly, leaning forward so her breath brushed right against his burning ear. "Grandmaster Zhang really is a genius. I didn’t realize his medicine targeted that specific part of your body so quickly."

Zhengyu’s throat hitched. He pulled his hand down from his face just enough to glare at her, though his bright red cheeks completely ruined his attempt to look scary.

"Yimei... put the trousers back on," he gritted out through his teeth, trying to sound firm. "You’re doing this on purpose."

"Doing what?" Yimei asked innocently.

Slowly, deliberately, she moved her hands higher up his thighs, smoothing another warm layer of the herbal oil into his skin. Her fingers brushed just inches away from his rising heat, making Zhengyu’s entire body go rigid.

A quiet, shaky breath escaped his lips. His fingers dug tight into the seat cushions beneath him, his jaw clenching hard as he fought to keep his composure.

"I’m just being a dutiful wife, following the doctor’s exact orders," Yimei whispered, her voice dropping into a soft, sultry purr. She tilted her head, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. "Or are you saying my touch is making it worse, Husband?"

Zhengyu squeezed his eyes shut again, a low groan rumbling in his chest. "You are absolute trouble..."

"Maybe," Yimei chuckled softly. She finally took a clean cloth, wiped the excess oil from her hands, and slowly pulled his lower trousers back up over his legs, smoothing down his silk robes.

She slid back onto her bench across from him, leaning back with her arms crossed, watching him struggle to catch his breath.

"Don’t worry, Young Master," she teased, her eyes glinting with endless mischief. "We still have a long carriage ride ahead of us. I’ll make sure to check your ’blood flow’ again tonight at the inn."