Celia's eyes flickered, refusing to meet his gaze. With trembling hands, she helped Nathaniel take off his shirt.
The sight before her was horrifying—his abdomen had been slashed open, blood still seeping from the raw wound. She rummaged quickly through the medicine cabinet, but there was no anesthetic.
Taking a steadying breath, she said softly, "I'll have to stitch this up. There's no anesthetic… you'll just have to endure it."
Nathaniel's lips curved faintly, his voice carrying a teasing edge. "And what if you're the one who can't bear it?"
It was a deep wound, at least twenty stitches. The pain would have broken most men.
Celia fetched a pillow, pressing it into his hands. "If it hurts too much, bite this."
Nathaniel pushed the pillow aside with a faint smirk. "Celia, you really don't know how to comfort a man, do you?"
Her face tightened, but she lowered her head, threaded the needle, and began her work.
The moment the needle pierced his skin, his tall body stiffened. His six-pack muscles clenched into stone, every line of his frame rigid with pain. Beads of sweat formed at his temples, but he uttered not a single sound.
Celia's heart clenched. What a stubborn man.
"You know," she whispered, trying to distract him, "you're allowed to scream. I won't laugh at you, and I certainly won't tell anyone."
Nathaniel shifted slightly, his dark eyes never leaving her face. Suddenly, his hand lifted, brushing against her right cheek.
The cheek that still bore the vivid mark of a slap.
Celia flinched and turned away, avoiding his touch.
Leaning closer, his breath warm against her ear, he murmured, "Do you hate me for it?"
Her expression remained cold, her voice steady. "No."
"Really?" he pressed.
She didn't waver. "Yara Lu is your fiancée. Saving her is expected. Saving me, on the other hand… is not. Our past was short-lived, Nathaniel. It ended years ago. You don't owe me anything."
Her words cut deeper than the needle. He saw the truth in her eyes—she wasn't blaming him. And yet, it didn't ease the weight in his chest. If anything, the ache grew worse.
Without warning, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her injured cheek.
Startled, Celia's hand jerked, and the needle slipped.
Nathaniel hissed, pain flashing across his face. "Celia, are you trying to kill me?"
Her eyes widened. "Sorry! Then sit still and don't try kissing me!"
But his lips lingered against her cheek, refusing to move away. His voice, low and husky, spilled the truth he'd hidden for years.
"I had to save Yara. Because… her mother once saved me."
Celia froze. Her mother?
"You've never heard of her," Nathaniel continued, his tone laced with reverence. "Her name was Xia Si. A legend in her own right. And she was the woman my father loved most in his life."
Celia blinked in shock.
Nathaniel's eyes grew distant as his voice carried her back in time. "But my father wasn't the only one. Twenty years ago, the Imperial Capital was in chaos. And Xia Si… she seemed to descend out of nowhere, born with a natural fragrance unlike any other. The great families were captivated. Princes of the wealthiest dynasties fought for her hand. The final victor was Lu Sinian—the wealthiest man in the capital. My father lost her… but he never let go. Every woman he pursued after that bore some resemblance to her. Madam Fu, in the Lu family's mansion, resembled her the most. My own mother—Madam Fu's younger sister—had Xia Si's eyes."
He paused, his jaw tightening. "One night, my father got drunk. He mistook my mother for Xia Si… and forced himself on her."
Celia's breath hitched.
"My mother's mind was never the same after she became pregnant. When the pregnancy nearly failed, it was Xia Si who saved her with a single needle. And on the day of my birth, when every doctor said my mother and I would both die from blood loss… it was Xia Si who delivered me with her own hands."
His voice softened, heavy with something like guilt. "Yara Lu's mother once saved both my life and my mother's. That is a debt I can never repay."
For a long moment, only the sound of her stitching filled the room.
But Nathaniel's thoughts churned restlessly.
If it had been anyone else, I would never have hesitated. But when I saw her—when I saw Celia—I couldn't stop myself. Even knowing Yara was waiting, even knowing I was bound by gratitude, I still threw myself between Celia and danger. Why?
His chest tightened, a storm raging inside. Because it's her. Always her. No matter how much I try to deny it, no matter how many chains the past places on me… it's still her face that I see, her voice that I hear, her pain that I cannot bear.
He closed his eyes briefly, the weight of duty and desire pressing down until it felt suffocating. I owe Xia Si everything. I owe Yara loyalty. But my heart… it has long since betrayed me.
Celia tied off the last stitch and sat back, her fingers trembling. She could feel the intensity in his silence, the war he was fighting with himself.
And though she didn't say it aloud, a part of her already knew—Nathaniel Fu was a man being torn apart, caught between the debts of the past and the woman standing right in front of him.
Celia tied off the last stitch and sat back, her fingers trembling. She could feel the intensity in his silence, the war he was fighting with himself.
And though she didn't say it aloud, a part of her already knew—Nathaniel Fu was a man being torn apart, caught between the debts of the past and the woman standing right in front of him.
Celia lowered her gaze, her lashes trembling. So that's why… That's why he protects Yara without hesitation. Gratitude. Duty. The kind of debt no one can erase.
Her chest ached, a dull and quiet pain. And me? What am I to him? A fleeting memory he once chose to let go of, yet refuses to abandon when danger strikes? Or… am I nothing more than a mistake he regrets repeating?
She pressed her lips together, forcing her hands to stay steady as she bandaged his wound. Outwardly calm, but inside, her heart whispered a truth she dared not speak:
I don't want his gratitude. I don't want his sense of responsibility. I only want him… to choose me.