Shen Yiren stared at Ming Feizhen’s smile for a long, long time. Just as Ming Suwen said, he never mentioned a word of what happened, punctuating his job with a smile. Had she not found him, he really might’ve just sat there and healed himself, then reappeared with his usual smile.
Is this how you always do things? Have you always been carrying weights we don’t know about? How many times have you suffered like this? Nobody knows what you did. Nobody will be grateful. Nobody will care about you. As a matter of fact, they will complain, misunderstand and belittle you. How many scars lie underneath that smile? How many of them are still leaking blood?
“Boss… you’re crying.”
“Am not.”
“You are.”
“Am not.”
“… Roger that. Are you going to wipe them? Your face is going to look filthy.”
Shen Yiren’s tears wouldn’t relent, but she ignored them. “I’m crying on behalf of someone because he can’t cry. I’m not upset. I’m ticked off. I’m disillusioned with myself. Why am I so useless? Why can’t I be of any help? I’m mad at myself for being ignorant. I demanded you be honest with me when I don’t even know what you’re hiding from me.”
A maiden crying with a piercing gaze whilst going off wasn’t a sight often seen.
“You piss me off even more, you jerk! I don’t even know how you got through those seventeen days. Were you ready to die? Shifu Luo Ming isn’t dead. Martial Paragon isn’t dead. Abels and Patriarch Moyan aren’t dead, either. You were planning to be a martyr from the very beginning, weren’t you? What was on your mind when you went to talk to them?
“When you visited Tang Ye and Su Xiao, were you planning to see them one last time? You refused to see Sister Suwen because you didn’t want her to see through your front. You… You didn’t even give me a heads up. Am I that unimportant to you?”
As soon as Ming Feizhen stretched his hand out toward her, Shen Yiren dodged it. “Don’t touch me! Why can’t you be more considerate to yourself? Are you someone who deserves to die? Why don’t you live for yourself more? Do you know people will be sad if you die? Do you know people will shed tears if you die?”
Shen Yiren’s crying hindered her attempts to speak further. Ming Feizhen could only look at her, taken aback. Suddenly, he wrapped his arm around her waist. Tired she may have been, but there was no way he could’ve pulled her in with such weak arms, yet her body gently leaned onto his involuntarily.
Mayhap she didn’t care; mayhap she didn’t realise. Either way, she buried her face in his chest, still crying, still mumbling, “Jerk, jerk…” until her voice was too soft to be audible. Only after her crying cease did it dawn on her they were close enough to be welded together. Thus, she figuratively pulled herself out. She was hoping to restore her rationality, but…
“Eh? Wh-what is…”
Why am I in his arms? How long has he been looking at me?
Though lowering her head was her go-to reaction to avoid him, it only highlighted how close they were – close enough to feel and hear each other’s breaths.
Ming Feizhen paid no heed to Shen Yiren’s reaction, leaning his straight face in. Her mind wanted to run, but her body was as limp and scalding as a drunken woman.
“… Wh-what are you doing?” Shen Yiren’s usual toughness was replaced with a never-before-seen meekness uncharacteristic of her.
Ming Feizhen just kept inching closer and closer… and closer. She had more than enough strength to wrestle her way out, yet she closed her eyes instead as her body shook. She could feel his breath and his body temperature coming closer and closer over what seemed to be forever.
Ming Feizhen smiled.
Shen Yiren didn’t get what she was expecting. She wouldn’t admit what he might’ve done. She felt a warm tickle on a cheek, and then it went down her cheek. Wiping, rubbing, caressing, she couldn’t tell what the difference was, but there was no mistake something went from her eyes down her cheek. Unable to curb her curiosity, she opened her eyes to see Ming Feizhen licking her cheek. “What… did you do?”
“Well, since they’re my tears, shouldn’t I wipe them?”
“Huh?”
“I can’t feel my arms, and I don’t have a handkerchief, so I have to resort to my protest instrument. Boss, your face smells nice.”
“D-did you just…” Cheeks seared, Shen Yiren blustered, “You lecher!”
“Why’s that inkstone here?!”
Author’s note: Flirty scenes are hard to write.
