CH 8.2

Sound of Breath (part 2)

Qi Zhuoyu was taken aback. In front of him, at some unknown moment, he might have already dropped a lot of disguises.

His eyes darkened, Qi Zhuoyu’s heart was filled with murderous intent, then he heard Feng Xuan continue, “I heard others say that couples have a seven-year itch, but senior brother, it hasn’t even seven months yet, why are you already intolerant with me?”

The condensed killing intent dissipated.

He was instantly relieved, he couldn’t care less about anything with this little weirdo with abnormal brain circuits.

Feng Xuan stretched out his hand, trying to unbutton his collar with jerky movements.

Qi Zhuoyu was startled, grabbed his wrist, and a rare blush appeared on his handsome face, “What are you doing?”

Feng Xuan was at a loss. “Prescribe the medicine.”

How to apply medicine without taking off the clothes. Will this be the same previous atmosphere with a sense of incompatibility?

But on second thought, it is also possible that the big devil wants to keep himself pure for his good master. A good man’s body cannot be seen by men other than the one he loves, Feng Xuan understands.

Qi Zhuoyu noticed Feng Xuan’s expression, but he didn’t want to interpret what Feng Xuan understood. Judging from his experience, it would not be anything good.

Afterwards, Feng Xuan was no longer obsessed with taking off his coat in applying the medicine.

He unobtrusively relaxed.

Under the bright candlelight, seeing the wound on Qi Zhuoyu’s back clearly again, Feng Xuan took a breath of cold air.

The twelve lashes almost tore until to the bones, his back was whipped with only a little piece of poor cloth, and because of this, it didn’t affect the application of the medicine whether it was taken off or not.

Feng Xuan’s expression froze a bit, and there was a little bit more of a heartfelt sigh.

He poured the blood coagulation powder on Qi Zhuoyu’s wound bit by bit, thinking that when he opened the door just now, Qi Zhuoyu seemed to be about to go to bed and rest. The room was empty and there was no other spare medicine for wounds. Could it be that he planned to leave the wound alone without treating it?

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help blurting out.

Qi Zhuoyu then said lightly, “In the process of cultivation, injuries are inevitable. As long as you don’t hurt your vitals, there is nothing that cannot be treated with. I have always been like this.” He lowered his eyes and whispered, “Moreover, the more severe the injury, the better, the more you will remember this pain.”

Because that past, will be returned a hundredfold.

Ha!

You are really abnormal.

Feng Xuan didn’t understand his self-abuse attitude, thus he asked, “Does your master not care about you?”

Qi Zhuoyu suddenly didn’t speak.

Su Qingyan was his master, and also the immortal teacher of this Misty Immortal Mansion, attending to hundreds of important matters every day, there wouldn’t be a time to take care of him.

Besides, today’s lashing was a punishment for his incompetence. His Master would only feel disappointed.

Feng Xuan dealt with the slightly shallow wound effectively.

What’s left were the ones where the bone was almost visible and just applying powder would be useless. He had to stitch the wound with a needle and thread first, and then wrapped it with a bandage.

This step was a bit technically difficult.

Feng Xuan hesitated for a moment, then reached out to pick up the needle and thread on the table.

Qi Zhuoyu glanced at him, and a trace of doubt flashed in his eyes, “Have you ever stitched up a wound?”

Feng Xuan tilted his head, and answered innocently, “No. But I have sewed clothes before, so it should feel similar, right?”

Qi Zhuoyu withdrew his gaze and glanced at the hangers in the room.

He gave him clothes, but it didn’t seem to be hung in the hangers.

Feng Xuan thought that Qi Zhuoyu was worried about his skills, therefore he comforted him, “Don’t worry, senior brother, I’ll be very gentle and won’t hurt you.” But after he finished speaking, he still felt guilty for a second and then continued to say to ease his discomfort, “If it really hurts, just call out and I’ll stop right away.”

Qi Zhuoyu didn’t bother to talk to him.

Feng Xuan thought that he agreed, but soon discovered that it was not what he thought.

When going through all the hardships and obstacles of sewing up a wound, Feng Xuan was already sweating profusely, his hands were covered with blood, and he was shaking so much that he almost couldn’t hold the needle steadily.

On the other hand, Qi Zhuoyu didn’t say a word.

Feng Xuan wouldn’t think it was due to his excellent technical skills.

Just for the first wound, he dismantled the seam and sewed again, going back and forth twice.

Qi Zhuoyu’s fingertips were obviously trembling, and there were thin beads of sweat on his forehead, his lips were pale and bloodless as well.

He was obviously in excruciating pain.

Feng Xuan put down the needle and thread, a little bit angry, “Senior brother, you don’t tell me how much it hurts.”

He was behind him, thus couldn’t see his expression clearly, and only thought he wasn’t in such pain.

Qi Zhuoyu curled up his lips, forcing himself to smile, “Why should I tell you?”

Feng Xuan was puzzled, “My father said that you need to speak out about the pain so that others will know that you are not feeling well.”

As he was His Highness the Crown Prince, he was spoiled growing up in the Ninth Heaven, Bai Yujing.

Feng Xuan was raised arrogant and self-willed since he was a child, and when the small kid grew a little older, he only knew how to howl and cry in pain even if he broke a little skin. It was also necessary to take turns in holding and coaxing the startled ancient god.

Which person will endure the pain after it hurts.

Qi Zhuoyu sneered silently, noncommittal to his words. Not everyone in this world had a carefree past.

Shouting for pain would only expose one’s weakness and attract more ridicule and insults.

Feng Xuan muttered, “Anyway, if I hurt you again later, you must tell me.”

Even if I tell you, what’s the use?

Can it relieve the pain? Such petty kindness.

It’s just that when the first stitch of the next wound was sewn, Feng Xuan’s clean voice that contained a trace of exploration, along with a caring attitude that was genuine, sounded, “Senior brother, does it still hurt like this?”

Qi Zhuoyu suddenly paused and in a strange way, answered, “It hurts.”

Feng Xuan immediately loosened his strength and leaned slightly.

With puffed cheeks, he blew on the bloody wound.

Very light.

Very soft.

When he was in pain, the father emperor would always blow on his wound like this.

He learned it in a decent way, and he did it in the same way.

Qi Zhuoyu’s body stiffened suddenly.

Feng Xuan tilted his head, “Is this better?”

Qi Zhuoyu lowered his eyes, making his expression unclear.

From Feng Xuan’s angle, he could only see the man’s expression hidden under the shadow of bangs.

He didn’t know how long it took, it was as if he had accepted Feng Xuan’s words.

Qi Zhuoyu’s voice was low and hoarse because of the pain, “It hurts again.”

Only this time, there was no sound of blowing on the back.

Instead, it was Feng Xuan’s doubtful voice that came, “Senior brother, I haven’t started the second stitch yet.”

Qi Zhuoyu: “…….”