Chapter 91 - 91: Wanwan, I’m Hurt
Losing composure only for a moment, Shen Wan quickly regained her senses. She took a step back and stood still, obediently addressing him,
“Brother, it’s quite late. Haven’t you rested yet?”
Shen Qian remained motionless in the dimly lit living room. The moonlight outside, casting a soft glow, fell on his profile, making him appear even more graceful.
“What did Dad talk to you about?”
“He suggested I should try to get closer to Sixth Uncle.”
A subtle change in his aura swept over Shen Qian. In the low light, Shen Wan couldn’t discern his facial expression, but she could sense the shift in his emotions. Combining this with her knowledge of Shen Qian from her past life, she had a good idea of the reason.
“Brother, are you unhappy about it?” She tilted her head and smiled.
“That man is dangerous. Don’t get too close.”
“Who?” She feigned ignorance.
With patience, Shen Qian uttered a name, “Quan Hanting.”
“Is that so?” She responded, taking a half step closer, tiptoeing to whisper in his ear, “But why do 1 feel like you might be even more dangerous than him?” Shen Qian’s entire body trembled, and a sly glint surged in his eyes. “You!”
“1 was just joking,” she said, stepping back to her previous position, a faint smile on her lips. “It’s getting late, and I should return to my room. Goodnight.” With those words, she started to walk toward the stairs. But just as she took the first step, her wrist was firmly gripped, and she was pulled back, coming face to face with him.
“Wanwan, 1 wasn’t joking with you. Quan Hanting is a complex individual. Don’t do anything foolish!” The last words were delivered with added weight, sounding more like a warning than advice.
“But what about Dad…”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Shen Wan nodded and flashed a sly smile.
“Brother,” she broke the silence, “you’re hurting my wrist.”
Shen Qian’s expression stiffened for a moment, but thankfully, the darkness provided cover, and he quickly withdrew his hand.
“If there’s nothing else. I’ll go upstairs first…”
“Wait.”
Shen Wan halted, her eyes questioning.
Shen Qian slowly raised his other hand, and in the moonlight, Shen Wan saw dark-red bloodstains on his palm, with a wound running across, exposing flesh and skin.
She stood still, unmoving.
However, he stubbornly extended his hand toward her, saying, “Wanwan, I’m hurt.”
Ten minutes later, on the second floor, in Shen Wan’s room.
The man sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on his knee, with a young girl beside him, currently applying pain relief ointment to the cleaned wound.
Shen Qian looked at her, but she was focused solely on the wound, softly saying, “If there are any signs of fever, you must go to the hospital immediately. It means the wound has begun to get infected… Also, avoid smoking and alcohol, and eat less spicy food… That’s about it, do you understand?”
H H
The man’s silence finally made Shen Wan raise her head with a furrowed brow, “Brother?”
“Yes, I understand.”
Shen Wan secured the bandage and tied it into a neat bow, coincidentally right on the man’s palm. “Done.”
“…Thank you.”
“How did you get injured?”
“A glass broke.”
Shen Wan didn’t press further, packed up the first aid kit, and stood up. “It’s late; you should rest early.”
This time, Shen Qian left decisively, without the sharpness he had displayed in the living room earlier. A faint smile played on his lips, and he appeared much softer.
Shen Wan escorted him to the door, then closed and locked it.
That night, she dreamed of two distinct scents—
One was the tobacco scent from the man.
The other was the smell of medical disinfectant.
Because of the opening dance at the banquet, Shen Wan, who had reached an unapproachable high peak by attaining Quan Hanting’s attenion, became the talk of the town in Ning City’s elite circles.
“You hear me, this Third Lady of the Shen family is extraordinary!”