Waaah, I'm being forced into loving my yandere wife's brain.

When Lin Zhiyao woke up, she found herself lying in her familiar brocade quilt, with the bed curtains half-drawn and she could see through the gauze that it was already completely dark outside.

Only one candle remained lit, placed on a small rosewood table in the distance, its dim light unable to illuminate the entire room.

She lay there with her eyes open for a moment, her pale face pressed against her forehead, her head throbbing dullly, as if someone had poured a head full of paste.

A moment later, memories flooded back: running away with her brother, the dull thud of a blade cutting into flesh, and... the warm touch of Shen Jin's palm covering her eyes.

Lin Zhiyao suddenly sat up.

Perhaps due to the extreme emotional fluctuations, she felt weak and limp, and leaned on the bedpost to regain her balance.

At this moment, she was dressed in clean nightgowns, the material of which was soft and close to her skin.

The mottled marks on his body seemed to have been coated with a layer of cooling ointment, especially that spot... which felt vaguely cool.

Lin Zhiyao looked around. The room was unusually quiet. Since the weather had gradually turned cooler recently, she couldn't even hear the dripping sound of the melting ice basin.

Shen Jin was clearly not there.

Lin Zhiyao threw off the covers and got out of bed. She stepped barefoot onto the cold wooden floor and took a couple of steps before noticing a pair of soft-soled embroidered shoes by the bedside. The shoes were embroidered with silver thread lotus flowers and were the same pair she had been wearing these past few days.

She paused for a moment, but still walked barefoot to the door and opened the black lacquered door a crack.

Hearing the noise, Qingwu, who was keeping watch under the eaves, woke up almost immediately and quickly stepped forward to curtsy: "Miss is awake? You've slept for most of the day, do you feel unwell anywhere?"

Lin Zhiyao's throat was dry and tight; she even lost her voice when she first opened it. After a light cough, she was able to speak, but her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper: "Where is my brother?"

Qingwu lowered her eyes and did not answer immediately. The lantern light from under the eaves shone on her face, making the pale blue birthmark appear even more distinct in the shadows.

"Qingwu." Lin Zhiyao gripped the door frame tightly, her fingertips turning white. "I have a question for you."

"Young Master Lin has been sent to the clinic in the west of the city." Qingwu finally spoke, her voice low. "His Majesty specially invited Dr. Zhao, the most skilled surgeon in external injuries from the Imperial Hospital, to treat him personally. Although the severed finger cannot be reattached, the wound was treated properly, and his life is not in danger."

Lin Zhiyao's throat bobbed, as if she wanted to say something more, but it was as if her tongue was being choked, and she couldn't squeeze out a single word.

She slowly squatted down against the door frame, wrapped her arms around her knees, pressed her forehead against the cold wooden door, and her shoulders trembled silently.

Qingwu didn't say anything more, but quietly stood guard under the corridor.

After an unknown amount of time, footsteps came from the end of the corridor in the distance.

She could recognize the footsteps even with her eyes closed, their pace unhurried and deliberate.

It's Shen Jin.

He came over.

Lin Zhiyao didn't look up or move. The footsteps stopped a few steps behind her, and there was silence for a moment.

Then she felt a warm shadow fall over her as Shen Jin squatted down beside her, level with her.

He reached out and gently gathered the stray hairs that had fallen across her cheek with his palm, tucking them behind her ear. Then, he stroked down her neck, his fingertips slightly cool, probably because he had just come back from outside.

"The ground is cold, why aren't you wearing shoes?"

Shen Jin's voice was a bit softer than usual, without that mocking, half-smiling tone, "You're not fully recovered yet, don't squat here."

Lin Zhiyao kept her head down, her shoulders trembling even more violently.

Tears fell drop by drop onto the wooden door, leaving dark, round marks.

Shen Jin didn't say anything more, but simply reached out and pulled her into his arms, letting her forehead rest against his warm, hard chest.

His movements weren't gentle; he held her rather tightly, making her ribs ache, yet he genuinely lifted her from the ground, like scooping up a cat curled up in a corner.

Lin Zhiyao's legs were already numb, and when he lifted her up, she involuntarily collapsed onto him. Shen Jin took the opportunity to pick her up horizontally, walked a few steps back, and put her on the bed.

Lin Zhiyao sank into the blankets, tears still streaming down her face.

She turned her face away, burying half of it in the pillow, not wanting Shen Jin to see her crying so miserably.

In a short time.

Shen Jin ignored her and instead took a handkerchief from somewhere and carefully wiped the soles of her feet, as if to remove the dust from them.

Lin Zhiyao cried silently.

After wiping her face, Shen Jin reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm, gently turning her back to face him so that her red, tear-stained face was fully exposed.

He gently brushed his fingertips across the corners of her wet eyes, the touch light yet carrying an unyielding stubbornness. "Don't cry."

Shen Jin sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her. The candlelight flickered in his fox-like eyes, and the deep ink color spread out, like ink stains wet with water, unfathomable. "If you keep crying, your eyes will be swollen tomorrow."

Lin Zhiyao bit her lip, her breathing heaving, and tears streaming down her face.

All she could see was the despair in her brother's eyes, and... the sound of a blade piercing flesh.

Shen Jin looked at her for a long time, then suddenly sighed. He then pulled her, blanket and all, into his arms, rested his chin on the top of her head, and patted her back gently with his palm.

"Your brother doesn't blame you."

Shen Jin's voice was so gentle it was almost like coaxing a child, "It was I who had him taken to the clinic. He was conscious the whole time. After the treatment, he only asked how you were. I told him you were sleeping, and he didn't say anything more."

Lin Zhiyao trembled violently in his arms. She gripped Shen Jin's shirt, her nails digging into it, her voice muffled and hoarse: "Why...why did you have to do that?"

Shen Jin did not answer immediately.

His hand rested on her back, his knuckles tightening slightly.

"If he hadn't done that, he would have come again."

Shen Jin lowered his head, his lips brushing against the top of her head, his voice even lower, "He will come again and again. If he can't take you away, he'll think of other ways. In that case, he might lose another finger, or his whole arm, or even his life... Yao Yao, do you want me to let him go that far?"

Lin Zhiyao froze, her fingers clenching even tighter.

She didn't know what to say.

Should she refute him? Should she say that Shen Jin was being unreasonable? But she couldn't think of a rebuttal.

Those principles swirled in my throat, like a rusty fishhook scraping against the inside of my throat, each word tasting of blood, yet I couldn't spit them out.

Because what Shen Jin said was true.

Her brother will indeed come again, and Shen Jin can certainly go even further.

Lin Zhiyao's knuckles turned white, and her hands were trembling slightly.

Shen Jin didn't pull her hand away, but let her hold it, patting her back gently, like comforting a child who had cried herself to sleep.

The candlelight in the room flickered, gradually burning to its end, the wick bursting into a tiny flame before going out again.

Only the light from the lanterns outside the window and under the eaves shone in, casting a hazy, warm glow on the curtains.

Lin Zhiyao's crying gradually subsided, turning into soft sobs, and finally even the sobs slowly subsided.

Lin Zhiyao asked in a very soft voice, her voice trembling with tears, "When can you let me go?"

Shen Jin couldn't help but laugh for a while, wiping away the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes before saying, "Yao Yao, how can you be so adorably naive? I've let you know my secret, so of course you have to stay with me and guard this secret to the death, until we go to our graves together..."

He spoke, slowly leaning closer to her ear, his voice soft yet as stubborn as unyielding ice, carrying a chilling edge, "...So, even death won't separate us."