105: Chapter 105 My younger sister listened outside the door for a long time.

That sentence, "Then let's do it before she returns," was like the final spark igniting dry firewood.

The string in Hong Shao's mind called 'reason' snapped in response.

The temperature inside the wooden hut rose abruptly.

Heavy panting intertwined with the groaning, overburdened wooden bed, composing a primitive and wild symphony.

Moonlight from outside the window spilled silently onto the floor through the cracks, cold and silent.

...

Qing Luo carried a small package of freshly picked herbs, walking briskly through the forest.

The night breeze was slightly cool, blowing the leaves to rustle, but it could not disperse the joy in her heart.

She had found the Dragon-nightshade herb that could neutralize the toxicity of the "Black Blood Throat-Sealer," so Master Luo's injury would finally be able to heal a bit faster.

Whenever she thought of that man, and the face beneath his mask—not exactly handsome, but exceptionally pleasing to look at—her heart would involuntarily beat a little faster.

The silhouette of the wooden hut was already in sight.

Faint light shone through the cracks in the door and window, appearing exceptionally warm in the dark woods.

She quickened her pace, just about to call out "Sister," when a faint, strange sound drifted into her ears on the wind.

That sound...

Qing Luo's footsteps halted abruptly.

She listened intently.

The sound of the wind, the chirping of insects.

Besides that, there was another kind of sound... suppressed, rapid, a sound she had never heard before, yet seemed to instinctively understand what it was.

It was coming from inside the wooden hut.

It was Sister's voice.

And a man's...

Qing Luo's face drained of all color in an instant, turning deathly pale.

The herb package in her hand slipped silently, scattering all over the ground.

How could this be...

They...

An absurd and unacceptable thought sprouted wildly in her mind.

She did not want to believe it, but the intermittent, blush-inducing sounds were ruthlessly telling her that it was the truth.

An indescribable soreness and grievance surged into her heart instantly, blocking her throat and making it almost impossible for her to breathe.

Why?

Why is it Sister?

Clearly... clearly I was the first...

She wanted to turn and leave, to get as far away as possible from this place that made her feel so ashamed and indignant.

But her feet seemed to be nailed to the spot, unable to move.

As if possessed, she held her breath and moved step by step, silently, to the door of the wooden hut.

The sounds inside the room became even clearer.

Every syllable was like a red-hot needle, piercing fiercely into her heart.

Shame, anger, and a trace of curiosity and envy she didn't want to admit even to herself—all these emotions wove into a large net, trapping her firmly.

She leaned against the cold wooden door, her body trembling slightly, nearly curling up into a ball.

Time, at this moment, became infinitely long.

She didn't know how long it had been—perhaps an hour, or perhaps just a fleeting moment.

The movement inside the room finally gradually subsided.

Only heavy panting remained, exceptionally clear in the quiet night.

Qing Luo's heart sank to the bottom.

She heard the rustling of clothes being put on from inside, and her sister's coquettish tone, filled with a bit of languor and satisfaction.

"It's all your fault... How am I supposed to explain this to my younger sister now..."

"Tell the truth."

It was that man's voice, still hoarse, yet carrying a sense of matter-of-fact calmness.

Qing Luo's fingernails dug deeply into her palms.

Creak.

The wooden door was pulled open from the inside.

Hong Shao, her face flushed, with a languid charm at the corners of her eyes and brows, appeared at the doorway.

When she saw her younger sister standing outside the door, pale-faced with red-rimmed eyes, the seductive look on her face instantly froze, turning into extreme panic and embarrassment.

"Qing... Qing Luo... When... when did you come back?"

Qing Luo did not answer her.

She simply looked past her sister, who was standing there stunned, and cast her gaze into the room.

That man was half-leaning on the bed, his clothes worn neatly, though his chest was still heaving slightly.

He was also looking at her; in those deep eyes, there was not a shred of guilt or unease, only calm.

As if everything that had just happened was the most ordinary thing.

This appearance completely ignited the anger in Qing Luo's heart.

She sneered, picked up the herb package from the ground, and walked in.

"Did I come back at a very bad time?"

Her voice carried a hint of cold mockery.

"Did I interrupt your good deed of 'treating' Master Luo's injuries, Sister?"

"Qing Luo, listen to me explain..." Hong Shao followed her in, at a loss.

"Explain?" Qing Luo turned around, staring her down. "Explain what? Explain how you two were rolling in the sheets on this bed?"

She sniffed hard at the air, which was mixed with an ambiguous scent.

"Good sister, is this how you take care of a patient? In my opinion, this isn't care at all; it's clearly you wanting to drain him dry!"

These words were spoken rapidly and heavily, carrying a sobbing tone.

Hong Shao was rendered speechless by her retort, her pretty face turning red, filled with both shame and anxiety.

"I..."

"Enough."

Chen Fan finally spoke.

He patted the edge of the bed.

"Qing Luo, you came at just the right time. Come over and help me apply the medicine."

Qing Luo's body stiffened.

She looked at that man; there was still no emotion on his face, but those eyes seemed to be able to see through all her pretenses.

All her grievances, all her anger, under this calm gaze, inexplicably dissipated by more than half.

She bit her lip, but in the end, she walked over and sat down by the bed.

She opened the herb package and chewed those herbs in her mouth, her movements carrying a bit of venting-like roughness.

But when she applied the dark green medicinal paste onto the black wound on Chen Fan's arm, her movements became incredibly gentle, fearing she might hurt him.

"Hiss..."

As the medicinal paste touched the wound, a cool, stinging sensation came.

Chen Fan subconsciously gasped.

Qing Luo's fingers trembled slightly.

"Does it hurt a lot?" she asked subconsciously, her voice no longer sharp as before, leaving only deep concern.

"It's fine."

Qing Luo stopped speaking, just bowing her head, focusing on treating his wound. A strand of her hair slid down from her ear, dangling onto his arm, tickling a bit.

Hong Shao stood to the side, watching this scene, her heart filled with mixed feelings.

The atmosphere in the room was, for a moment, strangely warm.

Finally, the wound treatment was finished.

Qing Luo used a clean strip of cloth to carefully bandage it for him, tying a pretty knot.

"It's done."

She stood up, as if wanting to flee.

A hand, however, was as fast as lightning, grabbing her wrist.

Qing Luo let out a startled cry, her balance lost, and she fell toward the bed.

She fell into an embrace that wasn't exactly broad, but was firm and powerful.

The scent belonging to the man, mixed with a faint herbal aroma, completely enveloped her.

"You... what are you doing! Let me go!"

Qing Luo was completely panicked, struggling desperately.

But the arm clamped around her waist was like an iron clamp, not moving a single inch.

Chen Fan did not speak.

He simply lowered his head, using his other hand to gently lift her pretty, tear-stained face.

He looked into her eyes, which were filled with panic and shame.

Then, he kissed her.