Leng Yecheng's words held a hint of teasing, more like a condescending evaluation, as if appraising a pet cat that had occasionally unsheathed its claws.
Su Wan's heart tightened, but she showed nothing on her face. She approached with the medicine bowl, timely allowing a flush of embarrassment and grievance at being caught being "fierce" to spread across her cheeks. Her voice softened: "Husband, you're awake? Was my voice too loud just now? Did I disturb you? It's all those servants' fault, gossiping behind people's backs... I lost my temper for a moment..."
She placed the bowl on the nightstand, sat down naturally, and reached out to feel his forehead, her movements intimate and full of concern, perfectly playing the role of a little wife who acted out of worry.
Leng Yecheng didn't avoid her, allowing her cool fingers to press against his temple. His gaze remained calm, like a deep well, impossible to see through.
"Disturb?" he said faintly, his voice low and weak yet carrying weight. "I thought it was... just right."
Su Wan's fingers stiffened almost imperceptibly.
He continued, his gaze skimming over her seemingly innocent eyes: "The Leng family doesn't need servants who don't understand the rules. You did... nothing wrong."
It sounded like praise, but Su Wan heard a deeper meaning—he was acquiescing to her actions, even, to some extent,认可 (endorsing) her exercise of power as "Mrs. Leng." But it was an endorsement laden with scrutiny, as if observing how far she would actually go.
"I just didn't want anyone cursing you..." Su Wan lowered her head, her voice choked up, her acting flawless. She picked up the medicine bowl, gently stirring it with a white porcelain spoon. Billowing steam carrying a strong, bitter medicinal aroma filled the air. "Time for your medicine. The temperature is just right."
She scooped up a spoonful, carefully blew on it, and brought it to his lips.
Leng Yecheng didn't open his mouth immediately. His gaze shifted from her face slowly to the spoonful of dark brown liquid, his nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly.
This medicine smelled... unique. Within the bitterness was a strange, herbal fragrance, completely different from the expensive tonics he had been forced to take before. After drinking it, the dagger-like hidden pain and bone-piercing cold inside his body seemed to genuinely ease quite a bit.
When he was昏迷 (comatose), he could vaguely sense a gentle force flowing within him, repairing those撕裂般的 (tearing) pains. So it wasn't an illusion.
It was her.
He looked up, his eyes once again on the woman before him, who was demure yet异常稳当 (exceptionally steady) in her movements.
"You know medicine?" he asked suddenly, direct and to the point.
Su Wan's heart leaped violently, the medicine in the spoon swaying slightly. Here it is. He finally asked.
She looked up, her eyes filled with a fluster of being questioned and an eagerness to prove herself. "I... my mother was always sickly. I took care of her since I was a child. prolonged illness makes a doctor (久病成医 - idiom). I learned a little from an old village doctor... This prescription is also from him. He said it's very good for restoring qi and blood. Husband, don't worry, I would never harm you!"
She spoke urgently, her eyes reddening, vividly acting the part of a young wife trying her best to care for her husband yet being doubted.
Leng Yecheng looked at her quietly for a few seconds, his deep eyes seeming to devour all light. He didn't say he believed her, nor did he say he didn't.
After a long moment, he leaned forward slightly and drank the medicine from her hand.
The bitter taste spread across his tongue, but following it was a warm, moist current that slowly seeped into his limbs and bones, dispersing the阴寒 (yin-cold) that clung to him like a stubborn illness.
He took several more sips, each time without hesitation.
Su Wan kept her eyelashes lowered, feeding him spoonful by spoonful, but her mind was turbulent. His cooperation was harder to deal with than质疑 (doubt). This man was too composed, too skilled at applying invisible pressure.
The bowl was emptied.
Su Wan brought him warm water to rinse his mouth and used a soft cloth to wipe the corner of his lips.
As she finished and was about to stand up, her wrist was grasped again.
This time, the grip wasn't strong, even weak with the frailty of illness, yet it still prevented her from easily breaking free.
Su Wan looked up at him, puzzled. "Husband?"
Leng Yecheng's complexion seemed to have warmed a fraction after the medicine, but his eyes were still tired, yet bright and startling. He looked at her, his voice low and slow:
"Su... Qianqian."
He deliberately paused,敏锐地捕捉 (acutely catching) her most subtle reactions.
"Since you are my rightfully wedded wife... then... fulfill your duties properly."
His fingertips lightly stroked the inside of her wrist, where the skin was delicate, yet one could feel the very thin calluses left by years of holding needles.
"Until I get better... you are not to go anywhere."
The words sounded like a husband's dependence and possessiveness toward his wife, but Su Wan heard the meaning of house arrest and surveillance within them.
He was drawing a line, confining her to this bedroom, keeping her under his watchful eye. On one hand, he needed her treatment; on the other, he wanted to keep an eye on her, this biggest variable, personally.
Su Wan sneered inwardly, but two blushes rose on her cheeks as if from shyness or excitement that he had finally acknowledged her status. She gently held his cool fingers in return, her voice soft yet firm:
"Mm, husband, I won't go anywhere. I'll stay right here with you, take care of you, until you're completely better."
Their eyes met, each harboring their own schemes.
One tested, the other disguised.
One wove a cage, the other plotted a game.
The air was filled with the scent of medicine and a silent, tense contest.
Leng Yecheng seemed satisfied with her answer, slowly released her hand, and closed his eyes wearily. This time, his breathing seemed more stable than ever before.
Su Wan tucked him in, picked up the empty bowl, and stood up.
As she reached the door, she looked back at the man on the bed who seemed to be sound asleep.
Her eyes cooled bit by bit, yet the corner of her mouth lifted into a faint, challenging curve.
House arrest?
Perfect.
She also needed time and space to set up her own board.
This game of chess had only just begun.