Chapter 10: The Handkerchief

The light inside the carriage was dim, with only a few thin rays filtering through the gaps in the curtains, falling onto the floor, the seats, and the two people inside.

Song Ning sat upright, his brow suddenly furrowing.

“Do you have a fever?” he asked, his tone laced with concern. “Did you catch a cold last night?”

He could hear that his sister’s breathing was off — faster than usual and carrying a slight tremor.

“Should I have the carriage stop so you can head back?”

Song Youyi’s fingers paused for a moment.

She gazed at the face so close to her. Those white eyes were directed right at her, his brow slightly pinched, his expression full of care and pity.

That gaze was so gentle and tender that it nearly made her eyes roll back.

Her fingers continued their work, her movements practiced and subtle.

“I don’t want to go back,” she spoke, her voice soft and accompanied by a slight pant. “I want to go with you, go with you…”

Song Ning suspected nothing. Worried, he reached out his hand to feel her face.

First, he touched her cheek.

The skin was slightly hot, smooth, and soft.

At his touch, Song Youyi’s body trembled gently. She bit her lower lip with her pearly teeth, waiting in anticipation.

Song Ning’s hand moved further up, guided by sensation as he climbed over the bridge of her nose before finally resting on her forehead.

“It really is a bit hot.” He carefully felt the temperature against his palm. “Does your head hurt?”

He was worried she actually had a fever.

His sister was not a Martial Artist. The Martial Artists of this world possessed incredible physical constitutions and could endure most illnesses.

However, if an ordinary person contracted a sickness and didn’t receive timely treatment, it was hard to say if they would pull through.

This was especially true for his sister, whose constitution had been poor since childhood.

“Is your breathing blocked?” he asked again, his hand still resting on her forehead. “Why are you panting?”

Feeling the warmth of the hand on her forehead, Song Youyi’s eyes gradually grew hazy.

She raised one hand, gently grasping Song Ning’s and moving it down from her forehead to press it against her own cheek.

She tilted her face slightly, nuzzling her cheek against his palm as affectionately as a cat.

“It’s probably because I haven’t been out in so long,” she murmured, her voice light and soft. “I’ll be fine in a moment. My body has always been like this.”

With his hand pressed there, Song Ning felt the warmth of her cheek and still felt uneasy.

But he said nothing more, only letting out a soft sigh.

“Tell me if you feel unwell. Don’t force yourself.”

“Mm.”

Song Youyi responded, but she did not let go of his hand.

She held his hand against her face, feeling the warmth of his palm and the contour of his fingertips.

Her gaze fell upon his face, tracing it inch by inch — from the brow bone to the bridge of the nose, and from the nose to the lips.

That face was truly beautiful.

Clear-cut and gentle, it always carried a trace of a faint smile.

Those white eyes could see nothing, yet they seemed to know everything.

As she looked at him, a surge of unexplainable emotions rose in her heart.

Gratitude. Attachment. And a sense of possessiveness.

The thought of these hands holding someone else, this face smiling at someone else, or this man marrying someone else made her chest feel as though it were being blocked by something.

But he didn’t belong to her.

At least, not yet.

Her movements became lighter and slower than before, as if she were playing a silent melody.

She used this melody to express the depth of her emotions.

The carriage was dim and cramped.

The sound of wheels grinding against the road, the jingling of brass bells, and the faint, distant clamor of the city streets all wove together, wrapping this small space in an airtight seal.

Song Ning sat there, entirely oblivious.

He couldn’t see.

‘That’s perfect.’

A sinful thought suddenly surfaced in Song Youyi’s mind. If he weren’t blind, perhaps she would never have been able to do such a thing in this lifetime.

……

Xia Ling knelt in the corner, facing the carriage wall, not daring to move an inch.

Her eyes were covered by a ribbon, leaving her vision a blur.

Her ears were plugged by her own fingers, allowing her to hear only a faint, distorted humming.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting like this; she only felt it was an agonizing ordeal.

Xia Ling didn’t dare to turn around.

However, when she slightly loosened her fingers, she could still hear some sounds.

Song Ning’s concerned words.

Song Youyi’s soft murmurs.

And those faint, lingering gasps.

Xia Ling’s face burned intensely.

‘Master, oh Master, how am I supposed to even speak of this?’

She poured out her grievances in her heart.

This Second Young Lady usually looked so sickly and weak, the very image of a refined daughter from a noble house.

Who could have imagined she would do something like this?

For a moment, she even began to envy Xia Shuang.

Xia Shuang was outside on a horse, knowing nothing at all.

The wind was fresh, the sky was blue, and she didn’t have to face this chaotic mess.

But what about her?

She was trapped in this cramped carriage, blindfolded and ears plugged, having to pretend she knew nothing.

She wanted to turn back and look, yet she didn’t dare.

If she saw something she shouldn’t…

She tightened her fingers again, plugging her ears more firmly.

Yet, those faint sounds still managed to seep in.

Song Ning remained completely unaware of his sister’s abnormality. Thinking only that she was frail and prone to overthinking, he spoke to comfort her.

“Don’t wrong yourself, and don’t burden yourself with unnecessary weight.”

His voice was gentle, like when he used to coax her to sleep as a child.

“Just stay peacefully in the mansion. Read some books, tend to the flowers, and live a life of comfort.”

“Leave the matters of the outside world to me and Eldest Sister. You don’t need to worry.”

He paused and smiled.

“Don’t look down on me just because I’m blind. There is much I can do.”

This was something he had always worried about. Since his sister couldn’t do anything, would she feel inferior? Would she worry about the family’s affairs? That was why he always comforted her this way.

He wanted to provide her with a stable environment to recover, allowing her to live a steady, worry-free life as a young lady.

As for everything else, he and Eldest Sister would handle it.

“I promise you’ll be well for the rest of your life,” he said softly. “Don’t worry too much about the family.”

Listening to these words, a smile slowly curled on Song Youyi’s lips.

The smile was somewhat morbid.

She stared intently at Song Ning’s lips as he spoke. That mouth opened and closed, uttering words so gentle and pleasant to hear.

Every sentence was like honey flowing into her heart, only to turn into a blazing fire.

Her slender body tensed up; she seemed to have reached a critical moment.

Her gaze traced his brows, his eyes, his nose, and his lips.

The surrounding light seemed to recede, the city sounds blurred, and the boundaries of the carriage began to vanish.

In her world, only this face remained.

She began to fantasize.

Fantasize about tearing into this face.

Fantasize about pinning this blind foster brother to the ground in this cramped space, biting his lips, and biting every inch of his skin.

To keep him for herself forever.

Yes. Forever.

Her leg suddenly twitched.

Her body shuddered, and she gave a violent jerk.

Then, she caught a cramp.

A sharp pain shot through her calf, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft hiss.

“What’s wrong?” Hearing the commotion, Song Ning immediately became tense. “Xia Ling, see what’s happened to her.”

Xia Ling hadn’t actually plugged her ears tightly; she had been eavesdropping on the movements the whole time.

Hearing Song Ning’s command, her entire body froze.

The Master’s orders were clearly more important than the Second Young Lady’s.

After a moment of hesitation, she slowly turned around.

The ribbon was still tied over her eyes, so she couldn’t see clearly.

She raised a hand and pulled the ribbon down slightly, exposing a small gap.

Then, she saw the reality of the scene.

Inside the dim carriage, Song Youyi was leaning back. Her clothes were slightly disheveled, and her skirt was wrinkled.

Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze was hazy, and her lips were slightly parted as she continued to pant softly.

Xia Ling’s gaze shifted downward, and her face instantly turned beet red.

“I’m fine,” Song Youyi’s voice rang out, having already regained her usual composure.

She extended her slender calf toward Xia Ling.

“Massage my leg.”

Xia Ling stared blankly at the foot. The silk sock was white, the ankle slender, and the foot small.

She took the foot, placed it on her lap, and began to massage it gently.

As her fingers touched that clean, fair foot, Xia Ling’s heart was a whirlpool of emotions.

She kept her head down, not daring to look at Song Youyi’s face.

However, out of the corner of her eye, she still saw Song Youyi pull a pale pink handkerchief from her sleeve and begin to slowly wipe her fingers.

Her movements were light, slow, and extremely elegant.

Xia Ling didn’t dare look further. She kept her head down and continued the massage, her lips pouting slightly.

After wiping her fingers, Song Youyi tucked the handkerchief back into her sleeve, her expression already returned to peacefulness.

She leaned against the seat, her gaze resting on Song Ning’s face, something hidden deep within her eyes.

“Brother,” she spoke softly, her voice tender. “I’m fine. It was just a cramp.”

Only then did Song Ning breathe a sigh of relief.

“I told you not to come out, yet you insisted,” he grumbled, though his tone was one of endearment. “You must rest well when we get back.”

“Mm.”

Song Youyi responded, her lips curving into a sweet arc.

Xia Ling massaged the leg on the side, her mind a complete mess.

She stole a glance at Song Ning. He knew nothing, his face still wearing that same gentle expression.

She then stole a glance at Song Youyi. That sickly, beautiful face held the proper smile of a refined young lady.

Right then, the carriage came to a halt.

The Female Steward’s voice came from outside the curtain.

“Master, Second Young Lady, we have arrived at the Qi Mansion.”