Hearing this, Wuqing’s face became even more expressionless. Seeing this, Little Zhou laughed despite the pain.

Whether from anger or his wound reopening, Wuqing trembled and slowly collapsed onto him.

“Killing us won’t benefit you, really. One person’s life probably can’t match both your lives. If you wanted to kill us, you would have done it already. Why wait until now? Isn’t it troublesome carrying two people while escaping? You’ve vented your anger, but you’d be trading away your own lives – that’s not a good deal!”

Seemingly afraid Wuqing couldn’t hold on and wanting to draw the two vicious men’s attention to himself, Little Zhou quickly spoke up again to negotiate with Yu Jinglun.

Yu Jinglun gave a cold laugh, made an eye signal to Mao Hui, said nothing, locked the cell door, and left.

“Get a doctor to treat his wounds!”

Little Zhou’s voice came coldly from behind.

Yu Jinglun said harshly: “A doctor? The emperor is searching the entire city for us two. You want our whereabouts exposed and get captured? Unfortunately, your wishful thinking is wrong! If he dies, there’s still you. Didn’t you say the princess was saved by you? Who says one life can’t be worth two!”

Little Zhou’s gaze darkened. However, before long, the two returned, placing a packet of wound medicine, a roll of bandages, a packet of needle and thread, and a basin of clean water on the ground before leaving.

He looked at Wuqing, thinking: If this person truly had ulterior motives, he would risk his life rather than beg for mercy – this didn’t seem like behavior of someone with important schemes. Could he really be from a martial arts sect, working under Li Huaisu only to avoid past vendettas?

At this moment, the unconscious Wuqing was awakened by pain. Seeing Little Zhou’s seemingly helpless appearance, he actually smiled slightly before saying coolly: “That Yu Jinglun has sense, but he and Mao Hui will still vent their anger. Because he knows well that without calling a doctor, my wound is certainly fatal. Though having both of us as hostages gives greater negotiating power, compared to the danger of being captured while seeking help outside, they’d rather let me die without treatment. Now they’ve brought these things over – the meaning is obvious. If I can save myself, I save myself. Otherwise, I die here.”

“Mm.” For once Little Zhou didn’t argue. By now he had to admit that the opponent lying across from him was calm and composed, showing no confusion even at the brink of life and death.

Wuqing said nothing more. He propped himself up to reach for the things on the ground, seemingly wanting to treat his own wounds. Unfortunately, lacking strength, he moved once and fell back onto Little Zhou.

Little Zhou cried “Ow!” and said, “You’re so heavy – you’re killing me. I say, this pile of stuff won’t be much use to you. The princess’s knife cut deep – gold wound medicine and bandages alone can’t stop the bleeding. Are they doctors? Are you a doctor? Do you know how to suture? Moreover, this gauze was carelessly thrown around by Mao Hui and is dirty – it can’t be used to wrap wounds. Otherwise, if infection sets in plus careless stitching, it’ll backfire and kill you faster.”

“That would suit your wishes perfectly.”

“Indeed it would. Since you’re dying anyway, be kind and tell me – what exactly are you? His Majesty’s man? Prime Minister Quan’s man? What’s your purpose lurking beside Huaisu?”

Whether from his injuries or being angered by him again, Wuqing’s blood surged and he fainted.

Before severe pain and darkness invaded his consciousness, he could still hear Little Zhou chattering away to himself.

“Hey, why did you save me just now?”

“In this lifetime, no one has ever done such a thing for me… I saw tender feelings in your eyes just then – were you thinking of your sweetheart? You’re not falling for me, are you? But I’m male! Even if you don’t mind social prejudice, I can’t ignore it. Besides, I don’t really like you…”

Wuqing wished he could struggle up and knock this person unconscious. Just as he was about to tell him to shut up, he was pushed aside. He sneered inwardly – had he lost this gamble too?

His face and eyes were injured from Mao and Yu’s vicious kicks, with blood clotted on his eyelashes. Moving his eyes hurt. Forcing himself to endure the gut-wrenching pain in his abdomen, he opened his eyes slightly.

In the dim light, he saw Little Zhou stand up and slowly remove his outer robe, setting it aside.

He seemed to frown at him, then tore a large piece of cloth from his inner garment, tearing it into three parts. He stuffed two parts carelessly into his collar and neckline, cursing as he reached inside his garment to pull out a coil of something, placed it on the third piece of cloth, wrapped it carefully, then slowly rolled up his sleeves.

Only then did Wuqing realize this person was truly thin and weak – his two arms were slender as lotus roots, a pale-faced scholar.

He seemed to want to fetch water. But separated by iron bars, he couldn’t bring the water in. Wuqing saw him crouch on the ground, pull out a piece of cloth from his collar, reach out to wet the cloth and wring it out, carefully washing his hands.

Wuqing thought: This fellow isn’t planning to take a bath, is he?

After washing his hands, Little Zhou threw the wet cloth aside and brought all the pile of things outside the cell door inside.

Then he actually reached toward his chest!

That cold hand groped around in his chest for quite a while, then poked at his muscles several times, pulling out some things. Wuqing’s teeth were nearly ground to powder, while Little Zhou continued smiling infuriatingly, saying: “You’re quite solidly built, boy.”

Wuqing spat blood – this time he was truly angered.

Little Zhou ignored him, humming a little tune as he took out the other piece of cloth from his collar, dampened and wrung it out.

Wuqing felt sudden pain at his wound and cried out, his gaze turning sharp before stopping abruptly. That earlier pain was Little Zhou placing the cloth over his wound – he was now gently washing and cleaning the flesh around his wound.

He wanted to help treat his wounds?!

His face was sharp as carved stone, but a trace of darkness and complexity crossed his eyes.

The flesh around the wound was blackened and rotted, with organs visible in the depths.

“So disgusting…” Little Zhou wailed as he washed. When finished, the cloth had become a red cotton mass. Little Zhou threw the bloody cloth far away in disgust, helped him sit up leaning against himself, and stripped off both his outer robe and inner garment. Then he stared directly at his muscular, wheat-colored, solid but scar-covered chest.

Though both were male animals, Wuqing was nearly made to vomit blood again by that lewd gaze.

Seeing him glare fiercely, Little Zhou finally looked away and rummaged around on the ground, picking out a fire starter.

Light suddenly blazed up, bringing a trace of warmth to the damp, cold cell.

Wuqing thought: So that’s what he was searching for in my chest.

Little Zhou wore an expression of “you misunderstood me, didn’t you?” and reached out to grope again, opening the medical kit he had wrapped carefully. He held the needle between two fingers and brought it to the fire starter to heat.

Seeing his smug expression, Wuqing said: “So you know medical arts.”

But Little Zhou shook his head: “Of course I don’t. Since you’ll die without treatment anyway, might as well gamble – treating a dead horse as if it were alive.”

Wuqing’s mouth twitched. Watching Little Zhou sprinkle gold wound medicine on his wound and grimly hold up needle and thread, fumbling left and right unable to thread it and instead stabbing his own fingers several times – this looked terrifying. Though he could endure suffering, he couldn’t help thinking: Should I faint for a while?

The needle moved back and forth through his abdomen as Little Zhou’s hair occasionally brushed across his face. But the pain was much lighter than he had expected. His heart stirred – so this fellow really did know medicine, and was quite skilled at it…

In his daze, the dim, hazy light from the skylight seemed to pull his thoughts back to that deep night.

That night, those soft, fragrant hands moving gently on his face and body – clearly gentle, yet bringing sharp, heart-rending pain.

“Don’t die, and don’t go to that place again. I’ll help you – live well.”

Just whispered softly in his ear, the purple-robed figure moving back and forth, always unclear.

After an unknown time, he finally couldn’t hold on and closed his eyes to sleep. In his drowsy, nightmare-like consciousness sinking deep into a quagmire, he could still hear his own voice saying he was cold…

He mocked himself inwardly – so he too could have such weak moments. In the rustling sounds, an outer robe covered him.

The clothes were quite clean.

Where did clean clothes come from? Not only was he covered in blood, but Little Zhou had also become half a bloody person after this ordeal…

Suddenly remembering that Little Zhou had removed his outer robe early on, no wonder he kept shivering while stitching – he was cold.

Following this logic and wanting to return the clothes, he struggled to open his eyes but couldn’t see clearly – only a dirty figure leaning against the bars, holding his knees. But the pain made him unable to move even a finger. After warming up briefly, his whole body began burning with fever, and bone-piercing cold flooded over him doubly fierce. He gritted his teeth, refusing to groan, but heard a light sigh as the person opposite reached out to hold him gently.

“What’s the use of being so tall and big?” Another sigh, and the other person curled into his embrace.

A delicate, subtle fragrance drifted over. He greedily reached out to hold that warm, soft form tightly to his chest, finally relaxing all over and sinking back into nightmares until a shocked, explosive shout drilled into his ears.

“Old Monster, come quick and see – there’s… there’s an extra woman here.”