80: Forced Love Overlord 5

Li Jin's body, taut as rock, began to tremble uncontrollably under her continuous soothing.

His tall frame hunched slightly, as if trying to bury himself in this sudden, incredibly warm embrace.

His stiff arms hung at his sides, and finally, as if all strength for resistance had been exhausted, he slowly, with immense hesitation and uncertainty, gently and with great restraint, placed them on her back.

This was barely a hug; it was more like a drowning person's instinctive grab for a piece of driftwood.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

The study was left with only Li Jin's gradually slowing, heavy breaths and Wen Ci's continuous, soul-soothing patting.

The medicine slowly began to take effect, and the waves of dull pain gradually receded.

And Wen Ci's embrace and gentle pats were like a gentle, peaceful spring, slowly flowing into Li Jin's nerves, which were stretched to their limit and almost breaking.

There were no words, only pure, quiet 'presence' and warm physical contact.

A heavy sense of exhaustion, like the tide rushing in after receding, instantly engulfed him.

Li Jin's tall body finally stopped standing rigidly straight; like a trapped beast that had exhausted all its strength, he slowly, almost curling up, sank into the high-backed leather chair behind the large desk, his head resting limply against the cold back of the chair.

Wen Ci did not let go of him.

She knelt on one knee on the carpet beside the leather chair, still maintaining her embrace, one hand continuing to gently pat and comfort his back.

Her other hand, incredibly gently, lifted with an almost reverent tenderness, lightly touching his sweaty forehead.

Her fingertips were cool, and she carefully brushed away the messy, sweat-soaked hair clinging to his forehead.

Then, those cool fingertips, incredibly gently, like a feather brushing by, began to caress his brow, which was tightly furrowed in pain, trying to smooth out that deep crease.

Her movements were utterly gentle, filled with silent pity and comfort.

Her fingertips slid down his high but cold nose bridge, and finally, with a heart-trembling warmth, she incredibly gently, again and again, caressed his jawline, which appeared exceptionally rigid from clenching his teeth.

The sense of security brought by this continuous, tender physical contact was something Li Jin had never experienced.

It soothed his ravaged nerves more than any medicine.

His tense muscles relaxed little by little, and his tightly furrowed brow slowly smoothed under her fingertips.

The reassuring touch of her fingers and the rhythmic pats on his back became his only anchor before he sank into darkness.

His consciousness began to blur, and his heavy eyelids slowly closed.

Before completely sinking into darkness, his last blurry perceptions were the cool yet incredibly reassuring gentle caresses on his forehead, brow, and cheek, and the comforting, rhythmic pats on his back.

Wen Ci's gaze fell on the man's sleeping face in the shadows.

The violent, pained expression on his face was replaced by a childlike vulnerability and fatigue, and his breathing became long and steady.

Her movements did not stop. She still knelt beside him on one knee, one hand unconsciously and incredibly gently continuing to caress his extraordinarily quiet face in sleep, from his brow bone to his closed eyelids, and then to his jawline, which was no longer tense.

Once she confirmed he was asleep, she carefully got up, found the first-aid kit, and treated the wounds on his joints.

After treating them, she began to tidy the room.

Once everything was in order, she sat beside Li Jin, quietly and gently accompanying him.

In the dark room, two even breaths could be heard.

The frantic atmosphere that had filled the room was now completely gone, leaving only peace and tenderness.

*

The thick darkness, like a receding tide, slowly, with a viscous resistance, peeled away from the depths of Li Jin's consciousness.

The lingering embers of a headache still throbbed faintly at his nerve endings, like the dull thud after being struck by a blunt object, but it was no longer the sharp torture that could tear one's soul apart.

What he first felt was a near-vacuum of exhaustion, a soreness permeating his very bones, as if every inch of muscle had been drained of strength in sleep.

Then came…

Emptiness.

A cold, dead, boundless sense of emptiness, like an icy tide instantly filling his chest, which had just regained a sliver of clarity.

It was like this again.

Every time he awoke after a breakdown, he was always greeted by this suffocating loneliness.

A ravaged battlefield, lingering pain, and a deathly silence, created by his own hands, that no one dared to approach.

Countless long nights endured alone, fragments of memories surrounded by loathing and fear, surged up violently, catalyzed by the emptiness, like cold vines coiling around his heart.

He suddenly opened his eyes, his bloodshot pupils rapidly contracting in the dim light.

His vision first blurredly focused on the familiar shadows of the ceiling, then the cold outline of the desk… He instinctively tried to push himself up, but found himself trapped in the soft embrace of the large leather chair, unable to move.

A chill of despair crept up his spine.

He was back, back in this damn hell of being alone.

Wen Ci… she really had left.

Seeing him so out of control, in a state he himself despised, how could she not leave? Was that momentary warmth, that gentle embrace and caress… truly a hallucination born of intense pain?

Was it a pathetic and ridiculous delusion he conjured when on the brink of collapse?

His heart felt as if an invisible hand was fiercely clutching and kneading it, a dull pain more intense than the headache earlier spreading through him.

His throat tightened, almost letting out a self-mocking, broken whimper.

Just then—

An extremely slight, yet incredibly clear weight, pressed down on his left shoulder.

Not the weight of a hallucination.

It was real, warm, and carried the rhythm of life.