Chapter 27: Untitled

“What happened to your hand?” Bao Ning trembled and hurried to light the lamp.

Outside, the wind howled, and heavy rain beat against the window panes, creating a terrifying noise. A bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, and the whole room was momentarily illuminated like daylight.

Bao Ning saw Pei Yuan’s pale face.

Her hand shook, the flame tilted. She quickly corrected it, cupping the flame protectively, and walked toward Pei Yuan—when suddenly, he shouted, “Stop!”

Startled, Bao Ning froze in place.

Pei Yuan flung the teacup in his hand to the ground, lifted a hand to his forehead, and closed his eyes hard, trying to regain his clarity.

His palm had been sliced open, blood smeared across his forehead. The sight made Bao Ning’s heart pound with fear. Ignoring his order to stay back, she rushed to his side and crouched down.

“What happened?” Bao Ning held his hand to examine it. The cut was deep, down to the bone, clean-edged—clearly from when he crushed the teacup earlier. Blood was flowing uncontrollably.

“Wait here, I’ll get medicine and bandages,” Bao Ning said, getting up and hurrying out.

Pei Yuan had lost a lot of blood. Concerned, Bao Ning didn’t notice his increasingly labored breathing or the deepening red in his eyes.

Just as she stepped outside, a shiver ran down her spine—she remembered the shadowy figure that had fled earlier. She didn’t know who it was, what they wanted, or if they might come back. She sensed danger, but this wasn’t the time to worry about that. Pei Yuan’s injury was the priority.

He could die from blood loss. The wound was serious—it had to be treated immediately.

The umbrella had been tossed aside by the wind and was now being blown farther away. Ah Huang ran up and circled her legs, but Bao Ning didn’t stop. She rummaged through the chest, grabbed the hemostatic medicine and white cloth, and dashed back into the east wing, getting soaked by the rain.

Just as she reached the door, it slammed shut in front of her with a loud bang.

Inside, Pei Yuan’s hoarse voice roared, “Get out! As far away as possible!”

Bao Ning stood dumbfounded. Why was he suddenly acting like this?

The downpour soaked her from head to toe, stinging her eyes. She wiped her face with her sleeve. She didn’t need a mirror to know she looked like a drowned rat.

She didn’t have time to be hurt by Pei Yuan’s change in attitude. She shoved hard at the door. “Pei Yuan, what are you doing? Let me in!”

He must have been leaning against the door—she couldn’t budge it. She looked around and spotted a hatchet hanging on the wall. “If you keep this up, I’ll chop the door down!”

From inside came the screeching sound of furniture dragging. Bao Ning pressed her ear to the door—he was moving a cabinet to block it.

How could he do that with his leg injury? That made her even more anxious about the wound on his hand. With all that exertion, it was probably bleeding even more now.

Frustrated and worried, Bao Ning pounded the door hard and shouted, “Pei Yuan, are you insane?”

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. “Pei Yuan, listen to me. Open the door, please?”

Inside came another angry roar: “Didn’t you hear me? I said get out!”

Her eyes welled up from the harsh words.

Bao Ning inhaled deeply and steadied herself.

She didn’t dare say she knew Pei Yuan well, but she understood him somewhat. This behavior wasn’t like him at all. Something was wrong. She couldn’t just leave. Since the door wouldn’t open, she turned her eyes to the window. If he refused to listen, she’d have to break in through there.

Then she noticed something strange—the ground beneath the window had three incense sticks, now drenched by the rain and lying in the mud.

A realization struck her. She covered her mouth in shock.

…

Pei Yuan thought he might really have gone mad.

He couldn’t suppress the turmoil and desire raging inside him. His whole body burned hot, waves of blood seemed to rush to his head, and the violent urges he kept buried began to stir.

He wanted to kill someone. He felt an overwhelming impulse to destroy everything.

Since the year he saw his mother’s remains, he hadn’t been this crazed.

But this time was different. On top of the fury and frustration, a strange itching crawled through his body, from the bottom up, along his veins—as if countless tiny worms were gnawing at him from inside.

He needed release.

He was a man. He understood his own body and knew exactly what this meant. Veins bulging at his temples, he thought of the shadowy figure outside the window earlier. Instantly, he flew into a rage and punched the cabinet barricading the door. The solid wood dented deeply, and the entire room trembled.

He had been drugged!

The pain in his hand sharpened, briefly clearing his mind. He realized he needed air and stumbled toward the window. Too impatient to open it normally, he grabbed the frame with both hands and ripped it off entirely.

The wood cracked with a loud snap. Wind howled in.

Pei Yuan closed his eyes, letting the rain pelt his face with its cold sting.

Blood still oozed steadily from his palm, but the pain had vanished. The warmth draining from his body felt like a relief.

His jaw tightened. Teeth clenched audibly. He tried to suppress the strange sensations, but his thoughts slipped out of control.

He couldn’t help thinking of Bao Ning.

He remembered earlier, when they leaned against the wall and her shoulder touched his arm. Her skin was pale as snow, her neck slender, her scent faint and sweet. She was petite, gentle—like a cat.

Pei Yuan groaned, unable to resist anymore. His hand moved downward.

He could almost smell her again.

Bao Ning stared at him in disbelief, her voice trembling. “Pei Yuan, what’s wrong with you…”

Pei Yuan’s eyes snapped open—and met her terrified gaze.

He didn’t know when she had gotten there. She was soaked from the rain, her clothes clinging to her body, outlining every curve. She stood there trembling, reaching out to touch him.

And she did. Her fingertips were cool and wet against his fevered skin—a rare relief. Pei Yuan’s throat moved. It was like a parched man in a desert tasting a drop of cold water.

But it wasn’t enough.

Pei Yuan stared at her face with an unblinking, savage intensity. His eyes were bloodshot and wild.

He braced himself with one hand on the window ledge; the other was still below.

“Pei Yuan…” Bao Ning froze. She instantly regretted her recklessness. She shouldn’t have come. The way he was acting terrified her. She stepped back, then turned to flee.

But Pei Yuan grabbed her shoulder.

The pain made her wince. Before she could struggle, he reached under her arm and suddenly lifted her up.

With one hand supporting his weight on the window ledge and the other wrapped around her waist, he hauled her into the room by sheer force.

Pei Yuan staggered. Bao Ning screamed and clung to his arm. They both fell together. With his left hand, he yanked his wheelchair into place, pulled her into his chest, spun them around, and landed firmly in the seat.

The wheelchair skidded and slammed into the opposite wall. Bao Ning lost her balance and her teeth slammed into Pei Yuan’s collarbone. Her own lip split. The taste of blood filled her mouth—she didn’t know whose it was.

Everything happened in a flash. Bao Ning, soaked and terrified, trembled in his arms.

Pei Yuan buried his head in the crook of her neck. His hand clamped tightly around her waist—so tightly she couldn’t breathe, felt like her back might break.

She pounded his shoulder. “Let me go!”

Panic gave her strength. She shoved him hard. He fell back, and she scrambled away, retreating to the wall opposite him.

They were about two zhang apart. The wind and rain howled through the window. The candle flickered violently before finally going out with a hiss.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Outside, thunder and lightning raged. Bao Ning’s heart pounded wildly. Her limbs were weak. It took a long time before she could even move again.

Pei Yuan gripped the armrests of his chair so tightly that blood dripped to the floor, drop by drop.

He was trying his hardest to hold himself back.

Bao Ning didn’t dare meet his gaze. With the door barricaded, she ran to the window, trying to escape that way.

Even someone as naive as her could piece things together—Pei Yuan had clearly been drugged with that kind of substance. She’d only ever heard the servants teasing about the stuff used in brothels—how did Pei Yuan end up like this?

Bao Ning didn’t have time to dwell on it. She clutched the windowsill, just trying to climb out.

Behind her came Pei Yuan’s voice—low, almost inaudible, calling her name.

She wasn’t sure if she’d misheard and turned around. His tall figure was shrouded in darkness, looking like he was in great pain.

He called again, “Bao Ning.”

His voice was hoarse and broken: “Help me.”

After a pause, he added, “My hand hurts.”

Bao Ning’s face was still streaked with tears. She hesitated for a moment, heart softening. In the end, she couldn’t bear to leave him like this. She stepped back, stopping just one step away from him, and said through sobs, “I… I don’t know how…”

“I’ll teach you.”

As he spoke, he leaned forward and grasped her hand.

…

Bao Ning was mortified, filled with shame. Pei Yuan had fallen asleep, exhausted, lying on the kang bed.

Luckily, it had all happened in the dark—she hadn’t seen anything, nor had she seen his expression. But even just touching was enough to make her squirm with discomfort, so overwhelmed she wanted to cry.

Her hand was sore, her wrist aching. Bao Ning whimpered a bit, wanting to cry, but then felt that was too dramatic—so she held it in.

She pressed the back of her hand to her face. Sure enough, it was burning hot. The lingering scent of musk on her hand made her frown. She rubbed it hard on Pei Yuan’s clothes and got up to wash.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The night was pitch-black. Bao Ning climbed out through the window, scrubbing her hands until it felt like she might peel the skin off. Only when her hands smelled faintly of jasmine soap did she finally feel a bit better.

Bao Ning changed her clothes and sat dazed in her own room for a while. Then, resigned, she picked up the medicine and went back to take care of Pei Yuan.

She applied medicine to his hand, bandaged it properly, and when she saw the blood on the floor, she remembered the leech they had and actually felt a bit sorry—Would’ve been better feeding it to the leech. Such a waste.

Pei Yuan was breathing steadily, sound asleep, even lightly snoring. Bao Ning knew deep down that what happened wasn’t his fault, but she still felt angry and pinched his arm lightly.

Pei Yuan frowned, then reflexively grabbed her wrist and held it in his palm.

Bao Ning pulled her hand free.

She didn’t dare look at him now. Every glance made her heart race and her cheeks flush. Her mind kept replaying everything from earlier—awkward, shameful thoughts that she couldn’t escape.

And he? He was sleeping soundly like nothing had happened.

Bao Ning pursed her lips, cut a piece of sturdy linen and hung it over the window to block out the cold air. She rubbed her arms, then lay down on the kang bed, keeping as far from Pei Yuan as possible, closing her eyes to rest.

There was still fear in her heart. Who had lit that incense? Would they come back? She didn’t know, and she didn’t dare sleep alone. All she could do was squeeze in and spend the night with Pei Yuan.

The room was a mess, but she had no energy left to clean. She just kept telling herself—wake up early tomorrow, wake up early—and drifted off.

Sansukini: I should name this chapter “The Hand Job.”

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