The moment Ziqing reached the door, she saw Yingzi and Physician Gu coming out, both wearing rather grim expressions.

“Has the Prince returned?” Ziqing asked flatly. That voice at the auction earlier, though disguised through a voice-changing insect, she’d known immediately—it had been Jun Beiyue!

Had this fellow really come to Qinse Valley just to lounge about, then? Still, Ziqing couldn’t understand—if she hadn’t wanted that thing, why had he bid so extravagantly against Xuanyuan Lige for it?

And having won it, he’d promptly handed it off to Baili Weisheng—and so quickly, too.

Physician Gu hesitated a moment before speaking quietly. “Your Highness, the Prince asked about the antidote to the poison-drug. This old man told him the truth.”

“Was I supposed to lie to him?” Ziqing asked, puzzled.

Physician Gu was immediately at a loss for words, unsure of the dynamics between the two of them, and chose not to say more, to avoid any misunderstanding.

Ziqing pushed the door open and entered, finding Jun Beiyue with a good number of medicines laid out on the low table. The moment he saw her enter, he beckoned her over.

“Why did you…” Ziqing was about to ask, but Jun Beiyue cut in, “Take off your clothes.”

Uh… Ziqing was momentarily at a loss, her instinctive reaction to cross her arms over her chest and step back, glaring at him fiercely. “What for?”

Seeing her like this, Jun Beiyue couldn’t help but laugh helplessly, adding, “Take off your outer robe. I need to apply medicine.”

This woman had wounds on her hands, her back, her shoulders—her clothes were streaked with blood. Didn’t she feel any pain at all?

Ziqing glanced at the wound-healing medicine on the table and only then relaxed her guard, obediently removing her outer robe and sitting down.

“Your hand,” Jun Beiyue said flatly.

She obediently extended it, letting him take hold of it, carefully applying the medicine.

The wound on her hand was in her palm, only a shallow cut through the skin—a minor injury. As the cotton swab gently dabbed at it, it stung slightly, itchy, just a faint ache.

“Does it hurt?” Jun Beiyue asked flatly.

“No,” Ziqing answered. It was merely a flesh wound—nothing serious even if left untreated, it would scab over in a day or two. Yet Jun Beiyue, having applied the medicine, still wrapped it carefully in white gauze bandages. “Have Shiliang attend to you. Don’t let it get wet.”

“Mm,” Ziqing nodded obediently.

Such bandaging brought her far more inconvenience than the pain itself warranted! If anyone else had wrapped such a minor injury this elaborately, she’d have surely thought it excessive fussing.

But looking at the not-quite-neatly wrapped bandage on her hand, her heart felt inexplicably sweet. She pressed her lips together, unconsciously wanting to smile—for the first time in her life, she felt a sense of being fussed over, cherished over something so trivial. Without realizing it, some tightly wound string in her mind, always taut, finally loosened.

“Take off this inner garment too—the wound on your shoulder is serious,” Jun Beiyue said gently.

Ziqing obediently did as told, left in only her thin undergarment. The wound on her shoulder had cut into the flesh, her clothing torn and matted entirely into the wound, and with the earlier cut from her dagger, blood still seeped from it even now.

Jun Beiyue’s handsome brow furrowed tightly, but he steeled himself, carefully picking out every last bit of debris lodged in the wound. When the cotton swab reached deep into the injury, Ziqing truly felt the pain.

That seed Bai Feiyao had planted had gone in deep indeed!

“Does it hurt?” Jun Beiyue asked quietly.

“No,” Ziqing said again, unconsciously glancing at her hand. She thought, this man was making such a fuss over her—that alone was enough to satisfy her.

This woman was so pure, so easily satisfied. Crying out in pain—such a happy thing—she decided she’d rather keep that for herself, hidden away, for now.

When the cool ointment touched the raw, tender flesh of the wound, Ziqing nearly shuddered. Her lips, which had been pressed together, were suddenly clamped tight between her teeth.

It really hurt!

“If it hurts, cry out,” Jun Beiyue said gently, doting, pinching her small face lightly.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” Ziqing said with feigned nonchalance, even managing a smile at him. A flicker of admiration crossed Jun Beiyue’s eyes; only then did he release his caution and continue applying the medicine more boldly, taking quite a while to finish treating her shoulder.

“The wound on your back isn’t small either—take off your undergarment,” he continued flatly.

Whether from being distracted or truly having become obedient, Ziqing actually complied, carefully removing her undergarment.

Her skin, flawless as unblemished white jade, was so beautiful that one dared only admire from afar, never daring to defile it with impure thoughts. The thin covering of her chest-wrap could hardly conceal the exquisite, delicate curves of her body—the soft fullness at her front hinted at beneath the fabric, its perfect contours far more tantalizing than any direct view could ever be!

Jun Beiyue froze, his handsome brows drawing together with a deep, heroic intensity, having never expected this woman to be so obediently compliant, nor expected such beauty to present itself so easily before him.

The wound on her back, though also a flesh wound, was quite large. Ziqing lowered her head, slowly turning around. Her back, covered only by the ties of her chest-wrap above and below, was nearly bare, its lines slender and elegant. Against skin like congealed white jade, even the palm-sized wound failed to mar its beauty, not diminishing this loveliness in the slightest.

At this moment, Jun Beiyue’s gaze grew deep and intoxicated, his handsome face lowering slightly, unconsciously pressing his lips together. He had to admit, in this moment he resembled a beast poised to strike, an overwhelming aura of dominance radiating from his entire being—anyone could see he wished nothing more than to devour the woman before him whole.

Yet this woman remained entirely unaware. Seeing Jun Beiyue delay so long in applying the medicine, Ziqing turned to look at him, somewhat puzzled, somewhat naive.

That fleeting expression, though it lasted only an instant, was captured entirely by Jun Beiyue’s eyes—this woman, who had commanded the entire gathering with such radiant brilliance, had such an innocent, vulnerable side to her as well.

How could a wolf like Jun Beiyue resist the naivety in her eyes? Without warning, he pushed Ziqing down onto the couch, his lean, powerful body leaning forward, pinning her beneath him.

In that instant, before Ziqing could even react, she froze in shock!

Jun Beiyue gently caressed her stunned face, his touch tender yet overwhelming, trailing all the way to behind her ear. Ziqing couldn’t help but tense her body, trembling.

Yet he continued still, lifting a strand of her hair, twirling it playfully around his finger, bringing it to his nose for a light sniff—his movements handsome yet wicked, wicked yet bewitching, murmuring low, “Qing’er…”

Ziqing’s heart immediately began racing, thump thump thump, forgetting even to change the subject, wanting to speak, only to find her very lips trembling.

What did he want to do?

Ziqing didn’t know why, but though she clearly wanted to push him away, her hands refused to obey her will—perhaps deep down she didn’t truly want to, or perhaps she really was frightened!

She watched him uneasily, seeing this man’s brow furrow ever tighter, his gaze growing ever deeper, yet ultimately he made no further move.

This time, it was he who redirected the moment. “Qing’er, does your back hurt?”

As he spoke, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly lifting her up, his deep eyes concealing a flicker of restraint. What was wrong with him? In previous times, it had always been mere teasing—the seductive fragrance had always been present, yet he’d never truly wanted her.

But this time, his iron-hard self-control had suddenly melted away at the sight of the naivety in her eyes!

“It doesn’t hurt,” Ziqing said, having fully come to her senses, turning her back to him in a fluster.