Chapter 47: Applying the Medicine

Song Jingyao sat on the sofa while Shen Xiuzhu crouched in front of him, supporting his right foot as he gently pressed the swollen area.

After the ice pack at the infirmary earlier that day, the swelling had gone down considerably, leaving only a small bump.

But the moment Shen Xiuzhu’s large hand pressed against the bruised skin, it still hurt.

“Ow… Gently… It hurts… ah…”

It wasn’t that Song Jingyao was being dramatic.

He had grown up as a pampered young master, doted on since childhood and carefully looked after. He’d hardly ever had the chance to experience pain, and he was especially sensitive to it. Whenever something hurt, his eyes would quickly redden and fill with tears—not because he was crying, but simply from a natural physiological response.

That was exactly how he looked now.

His dark eyes shimmered beneath long lashes, the corners tinged with a pitiful red and misted with moisture, making him resemble a tiny, tearful kitten.

Another sharp ache made him cry out again.

Completely unconsciously, he started acting spoiled, asking Shen Xiuzhu to be gentler.

Shen Xiuzhu’s eyes darkened.

His expression remained calm, but there was an almost imperceptible trace of helplessness on his face. Quietly, he shifted one leg, concealing the reaction in the middle of his body.

“Stop making those noises.”

His cold voice carried the unmistakable tone of an order.

Song Jingyao froze.

He thought Shen Xiuzhu was mocking him for being weak and unable to endure such a small amount of pain.

Pouting angrily, he complained inwardly.

He’s not human.

Just because he can tolerate pain doesn’t mean everyone else can.

Swap anyone else into my place—they’d probably scream louder than I am.

Shen Xiuzhu had always kept him under control, with endless ways to deal with him.

His authority over Song Jingyao ran deep.

Since Shen Xiuzhu had bluntly forbidden him from crying out, then… fine.

He simply wouldn’t.

At least, not openly.

Song Jingyao lowered his voice, reducing it to soft little whimpers.

Barely audible breaths floated through the air, brushing lightly against Shen Xiuzhu’s ears before scratching all the way into his heart.

That…

Was even harder to endure than the shouting.

Shen Xiuzhu’s breathing caught.

Without realizing it, he tightened his grip around Song Jingyao’s leg, his fingers clamping down like iron shackles.

Song Jingyao immediately sucked in a sharp breath.

Acting entirely on instinct, he kicked Shen Xiuzhu.

“You told me not to make noise, so I stopped! You didn’t have to pinch me! That hurt!”

Only then did Shen Xiuzhu snap back to reality.

He immediately loosened his grip, once again supporting the foot gently.

Song Jingyao had always lived a life of luxury.

Every inch of his skin was impossibly flawless.

Even his legs were exceptionally beautiful—long, slender, perfectly proportioned, with elegant arches across the tops of his feet.

They looked like works of art.

As Shen Xiuzhu stared at them, an overwhelming impulse rose within him.

He wanted to lower his head…

…and kiss them, inch by inch.

His gaze lingered on the faint red marks blooming around the ankle where he’d been gripping too tightly.

A strange excitement welled up inside him.

He even wanted to leave a few more marks.

Normally, he couldn’t bear seeing Song Jingyao suffer.

Yet at this moment…

He wanted nothing more than to bully him until tears gathered in the corners of those beautiful eyes, until he cried while begging for mercy.

…

That was… a little twisted.

Shen Xiuzhu swallowed hard, desperately suppressing the abnormal desire, though inside him it churned like molten lava bubbling within a volcano.

To stop himself from doing something he’d regret, he apologized in a low, hoarse voice.

At the same time, he sped up his movements.

After finishing the massage, he quickly sprayed on the medicine, deliberately looking away instead of staring at Song Jingyao’s feet.

Song Jingyao had absolutely no idea what was going through his mind.

Finally finished with the treatment, he let out a long sigh of relief.

Immediately, he pulled his precious little feet back as though they had developed survival instincts and sensed danger approaching.

Now that he’d suffered enough…

It was Shen Xiuzhu’s turn.

“Did you apply medicine to your hand?”

Shen Xiuzhu shook his head.

“No.”

Song Jingyao became even more anxious than the injured person himself.

“Then hurry up!”

“It’s fine.”

Shen Xiuzhu replied lazily,

“I only applied it this afternoon.”

“How can you be so careless? At this rate, when is your wound ever going to heal? And when you showered just now… you didn’t let it touch water, right?”

Clearly dissatisfied, Song Jingyao frowned and ordered,

“Give me your hand.”

Sitting on the sofa, Song Jingyao was noticeably shorter than Shen Xiuzhu.

Yet with his expression completely serious, he somehow looked surprisingly imposing as he glared at him.

Shen Xiuzhu…

The mighty overbearing CEO…

Actually obediently placed his hand into Song Jingyao’s palm.

Song Jingyao suddenly found the situation oddly familiar.

…Why does this feel like I’m training a dog?

No, no.

How could I compare such an overwhelmingly cool, domineering protagonist to a puppy? That’s way too disrespectful.

Suppressing the smile tugging at his lips, Song Jingyao lowered his head to inspect the wound.

Very quickly, the amusement vanished, replaced by guilt and heartache.

The cut across Shen Xiuzhu’s palm was frighteningly deep.

It looked as though a knife had sliced straight across it, leaving flesh cruelly split apart.

Just looking at it made his own hand ache.

After confirming the wound hadn’t gotten wet, Song Jingyao released his hand.

Shen Xiuzhu picked up the medicine and was about to hand it over.

“Hurry up and apply it.”

Song Jingyao crossed his arms.

“I’ll watch you.”

Shen Xiuzhu paused.

He looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief.

His eyes silently accused him—

“You’re… not going to help me?”

It wasn’t only his eyes.

Song Jingyao stared back in surprise.

“…Me?”

Shen Xiuzhu nodded.

His lips pressed into a thin line.

Although his expression appeared cold and intimidating enough to frighten anyone else, Song Jingyao had long grown accustomed to it.

He could easily read the hidden emotions beneath that icy exterior.

“…”

Speechless, Song Jingyao complained inwardly.

Still, he immediately took the medicine.

Since Shen Xiuzhu had helped treat his injury earlier, it was only fair to return the favor.

He leaned closer to Shen Xiuzhu’s palm, carefully applying the medicine bit by bit.

His movements were slow and incredibly gentle, clearly afraid of hurting him.

Because he concentrated so intensely, his arm remained suspended for too long.

It stiffened.

His hand trembled.

Accidentally, he pressed a little too hard.

Song Jingyao immediately looked up.

“Did that hurt?”

Without changing expression, Shen Xiuzhu answered quietly,

“Yes.”

Song Jingyao frowned at once.

His face filled with regret.

Whenever he bumped himself, even minor scrapes hurt terribly.

If he had a wound this severe…

He’d probably die from the pain.

Thinking of what he always did whenever he got hurt, he instinctively lowered his head…

…and gently blew on the wound.

It probably didn’t do anything.

Yet whenever someone was injured, people always did this, as though the soft breath could somehow ease the pain.

Warm, gentle air brushed across Shen Xiuzhu’s palm.

A faint tingling spread over his skin.

His entire body stiffened.

Song Jingyao might have forgotten.

But Shen Xiuzhu never had.

When they were children…

Song Jingyao had comforted him exactly like this.

He remembered every detail.

Back then, Shen Xiuzhu had delicate, doll-like features.

His fair skin, beautiful face, and slender frame often made him look like a little girl.

Some children deliberately mocked and bullied him.

They called him girly.

Weak.

Useless.

Claiming one finger was enough to beat ten of him.

In reality…

Shen Xiuzhu wasn’t weak at all.

His demon blood had simply been unstable then.

His grandfather had repeatedly warned him that he absolutely had to remain calm.

He could never become emotional.

If people discovered his true identity as a snake demon, the consequences would be disastrous.

So he endured it.

He ignored the bullies.

His grandfather wasn’t a bad man.

Everything he did was for Shen Xiuzhu’s sake, fearing others would call him a monster and hurt him.

But his methods were far too rigid.

As a result, Shen Xiuzhu became increasingly withdrawn.

No matter what emotions he felt, he buried them deep inside and digested them alone.

His mother had died early.

His father was indifferent.

His grandfather was stern.

No one ever told him that it was okay to say he was sad.

That it was okay to cry.

That someone would hug him afterward.

The first person who ever showed him that…

Was Song Jingyao.

When the other children bullied him, Song Jingyao charged over with fearless determination.

Planting himself firmly in front of Shen Xiuzhu, he protected him with one arm behind his back like a tiny tyrant.

“You guys are bullying someone this cute!”

“Doesn’t your conscience hurt?!”

Those little troublemakers had always been spoiled by their families.

But none of them could compare to Song Jingyao.

He was even more spoiled than they were.

He got whatever he wanted, practically raised like a little prince.

When it came to throwing around the aura of a tiny king, none of those kids could compete.

Children instinctively understood social hierarchy.

The moment they realized Song Jingyao was an even bigger menace than they were, they unconsciously backed down.

Still unwilling to admit defeat, one of them shouted,

“Cute my foot! He looks just like a girl! He should wear a dress!”

Song Jingyao rubbed his chin thoughtfully before grinning like a little fox.

“If you think he looks like a girl just because he’s prettier than you and not as chubby… then shouldn’t you wear a dress first?”

The instant he finished speaking, he waved his hand grandly.

His loyal little followers rushed forward.

Moments later, the bullies had their pants pulled down and were forcibly dressed in pink little skirts.

Naturally they resisted.

Unfortunately…

Song Jingyao’s gang was even more unruly.

Their combat power was overwhelming.

The children who had been bullying others only seconds earlier were soon squealing like pigs.

It was utterly miserable.

Forced into little dresses, they looked as though they’d undergone a complete transformation.

Their tiny worldview shattered on the spot.

They burst into loud sobs, tears and snot streaming everywhere.

It was enough to make anyone who saw them feel sorry.

So…

Song Jingyao’s own group started crying too.

In fact, they cried even louder.

Anyone arriving late would have assumed Song Jingyao’s side had been the victims.

As expected, the adults rushed over after hearing the commotion.

Seeing the children crying most pitifully, they naturally sided with Song Jingyao.

The bullies’ parents repeatedly apologized, scolded their own children, and dragged them home for a thorough spanking.

Afterward, little Song Jingyao earnestly taught his new follower the art of shamelessly playing the victim.

How to become a qualified little tyrant.

In China, most parents told their children the same thing.

“All you know how to do is cry.”

“What’s the point of crying?”

“Can crying solve anything?”

To adults, obedient children were the best children.

Those who cried were annoying.

Weak.

Children were expected to be strong, independent, and never cry when faced with difficulties.

But Song Jingyao, who had been reborn, only had one response.

Bullshit.

Who said crying was useless?

Tears were a weapon.

Children were naturally the weaker party.

They were bound to suffer unfair treatment.

If they endured everything in silence, weren’t they just turning themselves into turtles hiding inside their shells?

Why should they force themselves to suffer like that?

Little Song Jingyao patted little Shen Xiuzhu’s shoulder and spoke earnestly.

“If you want to cry, then cry.”

“If someone bullies you, don’t hold it in.”

“Cry loudly.”

“The kids who know how to cry get candy.”

“See what happened just now? We cried harder, so the adults took our side and helped us.”

“But don’t use this trick too often.”

“Otherwise you’ll become the boy who cried wolf…”

As he spoke, the chubby little boy reached into his pocket and took out several brightly wrapped fruit candies.

Holding them out, he offered them to Shen Xiuzhu.

Shen Xiuzhu stared at the tiny outstretched hand.

Each little finger had adorable dimples across the knuckles.

Soft.

Fair.

Fluffy like marshmallows.

Incredibly cute.

When Shen Xiuzhu didn’t take the candy, Song Jingyao simply peeled one open himself and stuffed it into his mouth.

It was…

Very sweet.

The next second, Song Jingyao stepped forward.

Spreading his arms wide, he pulled Shen Xiuzhu into a warm embrace.

Patting his back gently, he comforted him in a soft, childish voice.

“Hug.”

“Don’t be sad anymore, okay?”

The embrace was unbelievably warm.

Like being wrapped inside a tiny sun.

His entire body became warm.

So did his heart.

His grandfather had always told him—

A real man sheds blood, not tears.

This was the first time…

Anyone had ever told him—

If you want to cry…

Then cry.

Cry as hard as you need to.

Warm tears slid silently down his cheeks.

As though every bit of sadness left with them.

His body suddenly felt light.

The emptiness in his heart was instantly filled.

At that moment…

His entire heart belonged to one name.

Song Jingyao.

Raised under his grandfather’s strict discipline, Shen Xiuzhu had always demanded perfection from himself.

He wasn’t allowed to cry.

Wasn’t allowed to act spoiled.

Wasn’t allowed to be immature.

Little by little…

He had become more like a machine than a person.

Until one day…

A chubby little boy with the brightest smile barged into his world.

Like a beam of sunlight piercing through cold gray clouds, illuminating every dark corner of his heart.

Song Jingyao hugged him.

Gave him candy.

Protected him.

Blew gently on his wounds.

Told him not to be sad.

Only then did Shen Xiuzhu finally understand.

The truth was…

He wasn’t some invincible man after all.

He was afraid of pain too.

And sometimes…

He wanted to cry.

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