Xingchen's heart twisted into a knot of helpless agony just watching him endure it. She hurried into the adjacent bathroom, returning with a warm, damp towel. Leaning close, she gently dabbed the cold sweat from his brow and upper lip.
Suddenly, his hand shot up, fingers clamping around her wrist. His eyes flickered open, finding hers. Those usually sharp, commanding eyes were now clouded with pain, depthless and vulnerable, striking a chord deep within her chest.
She felt every tremor of his restraint through his grip – fingers tightening, then loosening, then tightening again, slick with cold sweat against her skin. The raw evidence of his suffering was unbearable.
"I'll talk to you," she whispered urgently, setting the towel aside. "Distract you. It might help. What would you like to hear? Or talk about? Anything." Her voice was thick with compassion.
Thoughtful, Dr. Fu noted silently, observing the scene with clinical interest and a touch of wry amusement. It was a rather aesthetically pleasing tableau.
Bai Yeqing's gaze, heavy-lidded and blurred with suffering, remained locked on her. A faint, strained curve touched his lips. "I know… a better distraction…" His voice was a rough scrape, weakened but unnervingly potent. "Want to try?"
Xingchen felt a treacherous flush creep up her neck. Now? Of all moments, why did his pain-roughened whisper sound so devastatingly magnetic? So… intimate?
She nodded almost before the thought fully formed. "Of course. How?"
"Closer," he managed, the words clipped.
She bent lower over the bed.
"More."
"Ah?" Hesitation flickered through her. She met his eyes, her lashes fluttering nervously. Only a few scant inches separated them now. Any closer…
The danger was palpable.
His grip on her wrist tightened brutally as another wave of agony hit him. Her resolve shattered by his palpable distress, she instinctively closed the distance, leaning in until barely a breath separated them.
His features filled her vision – blurred by proximity, yet breathtakingly defined. She could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing, feel the heat radiating from him.
"What should I—?" she began, her voice tight with shared pain.
The question dissolved into a startled gasp as he surged upward with surprising strength. The shocking coolness of his lips pressed firmly against hers.
Wh—What?
For a stunned heartbeat, her mind went blank. Then instinct kicked in. She jerked her head back, breaking the contact. But before she could retreat an inch, his hand tangled fiercely in her hair, pulling her back down.
The kiss that followed wasn't gentle. It was raw, desperate, a dangerous, potent distraction that blurred the lines between pain relief and something infinitely more perilous. Fear warred with a terrifying, drowning sensation of rightness. Pushing him away felt impossible, betraying the very instinct that had drawn her close to ease his suffering.
Ahem." The sound was deliberately loud, shattering the charged silence. Dr. Fu cleared his throat again. "Gentle reminder? The patient is officially bandaged." He injected dry amusement into his tone. "Honestly, if there was a Single Person Protection League, I'd be dialing them right now." He sighed dramatically. "Forgotten. Utterly superfluous."
How long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Awareness crashed over Xingchen like icy water. Fu Yichen! He saw everything!
Mortification burned across her face like wildfire. She tore herself backward, desperate to escape the heat of Bai Yeqing's body, the intensity of his gaze.
His grip lingered for a breath, long enough for his lips to graze hers one last time – a slow, deliberate caress that ignited fresh sparks – before finally releasing her.
She met his eyes, deep and turbulent, a storm of unspoken things swirling in their dark depths. Panic seized her. She couldn't decipher it. Wouldn't dare. Whirling around, she fled the room without a backward glance, the heat of Dr. Fu's knowing gaze prickling between her shoulder blades.
Utter. Humiliation. She'd been kissed again! Fallen for his outrageous ploy! And worse, forgotten the entire world existed outside that kiss!
"Insane!" she hissed outside the door, pressing ice-cold hands to her flaming cheeks, pacing frantic circles on the carpet. Insane! He played me! That whole 'distraction' line was pure manipulation!
But…
What was this frantic drumming against her ribs? Not disgust. Not anger. A wild, exhilarating pulse that refused to calm. She pressed a palm hard against her chest, feeling the frantic beat echo through her bones. What was this?
Could she possibly…?
"No!" The denial hissed out, sharp with fright. She slapped her own cheeks lightly, a desperate attempt to shock sense back into herself. "Get a grip, Xia Xingchen," she muttered fiercely. "He's devastatingly handsome. Sculpted like a god. And oh, just happens to be the President. Any woman's pulse would race if kissed like that! Any woman! Totally normal physiological response!"
"Exactly!" she affirmed aloud, nodding vigorously. "Physiology. Not emotion. Do not confuse the two. Stay sharp!"
The President. Who was she to dream of liking him? Their current proximity? A fragile bridge built entirely on Dabai. Without their son, their paths would never have crossed in this lifetime.
Liking him? She'd be swallowed into the faceless ocean of his admirers. Countless women, all yearning for the impossible.
President and commoner? History offered no precedent. Marriages among his predecessors were alliances, forged in political fire. Love was a luxury, affection a currency traded for power. Whether by choice or duty, the outcome remained the same.
For someone like her… falling for a President wasn't romance. It was being a moth drawn to a star – beautiful, distant, and utterly annihilating. She would simply… burn away to nothing.
Never again. Never fall for that dangerous charm.
Logic screamed its warnings. Xingchen ruthlessly forced the chaotic whirlwind inside her down, smothering it beneath layers of cold reason.
Yet…
A hollow ache bloomed beneath the forced calm. A quiet, insistent pang of loss she refused to name or examine.
Footsteps approached. Dr. Fu emerged, medical case in hand. Meeting his perceptive gaze reignited her blush, but she gathered her composure enough to walk him to the door.
"So," he began casually, pausing on the threshold, his intelligent eyes studying her flushed face. "You two dating?"
"W-What? No! Absolutely not!" The denial burst out, too fast, too loud.
Fu Yichen chuckled softly, a sound rich with unspoken knowledge. He waved off her protestations as if they were inconsequential. "Yeqing…" he mused, his gaze drifting thoughtfully back towards the bedroom. "All that frost on the surface? Scratch a little. You'll find warmth beneath. The kind," he added, his tone softening with conviction, "that's dangerously easy for a woman to love."
He offered a final, knowing nod before turning and disappearing down the hallway, leaving Xingchen rooted to the spot, his words echoing in the suddenly too-quiet foyer, resonating with the frantic rhythm still pounding in her chest.