Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

"What are you doing!"

Pei Junlan shouted to stop her and grabbed Shen Qiongju's wrist.

"Men and women shouldn't touch each other, he... he's your brother-in-law!"

Even at such a critical moment, Aunt Pei still firmly adhered to the bottom line of etiquette.

"Aunt!" Shen Qiongju's tone was firm. "If we delay any longer, his brain will be fried. Saving him is the priority; we can't worry about anything else!"

"I'll do it!" Pei Zhiyan volunteered, picked up the wet cloth, and was about to step forward.

"You can't do it." Shen Qiongju refused decisively. "You don't know how to use your hands properly. The force and location of your rubbing are important. You have to rub until your skin gets warm."

She shook off Pei Junlan's hand, stared at her intently, and said, word by word, "Aunt, he is the hope of the Pei family. If something happens to him, how will we explain it to Grandfather and Zhi Chao in the future!"

"In this emergency, I only want him to live!"

She practically shouted the last sentence.

Pei Junlan was startled by her shout. Looking at her nephew's flushed face on the bed, and then at Shen Qiongju's confident expression, she turned around, her back to the bed, and said, "...You, you do it."

Shen Qiongju no longer hesitated.

She quickly unbuttoned Pei Zhihui's inner garment, revealing his slender yet powerful chest.

His chest was covered with crisscrossing scars, layer upon layer, which looked shocking under the dim light.

That's what he left behind when he fell off the cliff.

Shen Qiongju was startled. Without thinking, she pressed the cloth soaked in strong liquor onto his chest, neck, armpits, and arms, wiping him vigorously over and over again.

The pungent smell of alcohol mixed with the aroma of herbs filled the air.

Pei Zhiyan helped by bringing water and changing towels. Looking at his sister-in-law's focused and anxious profile, his nose tingled with emotion.

The only sounds in the room were the rustling of a towel against flesh and the increasingly heavy breathing of the person on the bed.

Late at night.

The Pei family members couldn't stay awake any longer and went back to their rooms to rest, except for Shen Qiongju, who stayed by the bedside.

She tirelessly repeated the actions in her hands until Pei Zhihui's high fever finally subsided slightly.

When she was so exhausted that she was almost collapsing, she lay on the edge of the bed, just wanting to catch her breath, when her wrist was suddenly grabbed by a large, hot hand.

Shen Qiongju looked up in surprise.

Pei Zhihui's eyes remained closed, his brows furrowed, and he mumbled something incoherently, as if he were trapped in some kind of nightmare.

He gripped her hand with astonishing strength, like a drowning person clinging to the only piece of driftwood.

"...Don't go," the broken syllables escaped from his chapped lips.

Shen Qiongju was stunned. She tried to pull her hand away, but he gripped it even tighter.

His palms were burning hot, and the heat traveled down her wrists and burned all the way to her heart.

Looking at his pale yet handsome face and his pained expression, she felt a mix of emotions. In the end, she stopped struggling and let him hold her, staying by his side all night.

Pei Zhihui, indeed, was having a nightmare.

In her dream, Shen Qiongju stood under the osmanthus tree in the courtyard, wearing a plain white jacket, her long black hair flowing like a waterfall. The moonlight shone on her, making her look like an unreal phantom.

She walked towards him, her eyes filled with timidity and uncertainty.

He wounded her with the coldest words, but seeing her pale face and trembling eyelashes, a twisted pleasure rose in his heart.

He wanted to see her cry, to see her lose her composure because of him.

At the end of the dream, he collapsed in the mourning hall.

The boundless darkness and cold engulfed him, and he thought he was about to die.

Just then, a pair of hands, a pair of warm hands with a faint scent of wine, pulled him back from the icy hell.

……

"water……"

A hoarse, almost inaudible voice startled Shen Qiongju from her light sleep.

She suddenly opened her eyes and found that it was already broad daylight.

Pei Zhihui had woken up at some point and was staring at her with his dark eyes wide open.

His consciousness had actually been intermittently cleared several times.

He felt as if he were in a giant steamer, or in an icy lake, constantly alternating between hot and cold, enduring unbearable torment. He could smell the familiar aroma of wine.

He could feel a pair of slightly cool, rough hands, trembling slightly, repeatedly wiping his body.

During this time, he used all his strength to open his eyes.

What I saw was her sleeping face, lying on the edge of the bed, completely defenseless from exhaustion.

Strands of hair clung messily to her pale cheeks, her eyes were dark and swollen, her eyes were tightly closed, and her long eyelashes cast shadows on her eyelids.

Shen Qiongju seemed to wake up as if she had a premonition. When she looked up, she saw Pei Zhihui's deep eyes.

Eyes facing each other.

The air was filled with the smells of medicine, alcohol, and the lingering heat of his body from the previous night.

He woke up.

"Water..." he began again, his voice strained as if it had been sanded, each word uttered with great difficulty.

Shen Qiongju snapped out of her daze, abruptly pulling her hand back from his grip, which had been numb. She stood up, and because she stood up so quickly, her vision went black for a moment, and she swayed.

"You..." She wanted to ask him how he felt, but swallowed the words back.

With that hoarse voice, she probably couldn't speak. She quickly walked to the table and poured herself a glass of water.

The water was warm water that had been prepared beforehand.

She carried the water glass back to the bedside, but then she was at a loss.

He is so weak that he can barely sit up. How can he drink water?

Shen Qiongju hesitated for a moment, then bent down and put one hand on his shoulder, trying to help him up a little.

The moment her fingertips touched his thin nightgown, his body stiffened abruptly.

"Sister-in-law, did you stay up all night for me?" His voice was hoarse, and his tone was somewhat weak.

Shen Qiongju paused, holding his hand.

She lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes obscuring the emotions within them: "You had a high fever, and I helped bring it down last night. The others are still in the mourning hall."

Pei Zhihui didn't speak, his gaze falling on her pale, tired face and the fingers holding the teacup.

He remembered that, in his dazed state, it was these hands, slightly cool and trembling, that repeatedly wiped his burning body, pulling him little by little out of the excruciating pain.

He even remembered the feeling of holding that hand in his dream; it was incredibly warm and soft.

Pei Zhihui's Adam's apple bobbed, and he shifted his gaze from her hands to the glass of water.

"Help me up." His voice had recovered a little, but his tone became stiff.

Shen Qiongju felt relieved and quickly put her arm under his armpit, placed her other hand under his back, and used all her strength to support his weak body and lean him against the headboard pillow.

In this process, intimate contact was inevitable.

His body was thin, and through the thin fabric of his clothes, she could clearly feel the outline of his bones and the still unsettling heat lingering on his body.

Shen Qiongju didn't have time to think much and carefully handed the water glass to his chapped lips.

Pei Zhihui lowered his head and took small sips of water from her hand.

The warm water soothed his parched throat and cleared his confused thoughts somewhat.

After drinking the glass of water, he felt a little strength return to his body.

"Would you like to eat?" Shen Qiongju put down her water glass and asked in a low voice, "The kitchen has cooked rice porridge, shall I go and bring it to you?"

Pei Zhihui did not respond, but his gaze fell on the wrinkled mourning clothes she was wearing.

She stayed here the whole time, without even changing her clothes.

"No need, just call Zhiyan over," he suddenly said.

Shen Qiongju was taken aback, looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

Pei Zhihui avoided her gaze, frowning as he said, "Go and rest."

He paused for a moment, then added in a cold tone, "Don't get in my way."

Shen Qiongju was completely stunned. Why was his attitude so fickle?

She thought she had misheard; the first sentence told her to go and rest, while the second sentence explained that she was in the way.

Is this considered...concern?

The moment the thought popped into her head, she nipped it in the bud.

Impossible. He hates her for taking the lives of two members of the Pei family. How could he possibly care about her? Perhaps he just finds her appearance too haggard and an eyesore.

Shen Qiongju thought to herself with a self-deprecating smile, but nodded perfunctorily, "Okay."

She turned and left the room.