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Weariness of Spring Flowers — Chapter 7.2


Murong Jing He sipped the water slowly, raising his eyelashes slightly, trying to discern something beneath Mei Lin's calm exterior.

Her pale face, with wet strands of hair clinging to her cheeks, made one want to reach out and tuck them behind her ear. Her delicate eyebrows and serene eyes gave the impression of a woman accustomed to submission, without a will of her own. Yet, her mind was far more calculating than expected, and her actions were unexpectedly decisive and efficient.

This was the first time Murong Jing He had taken a closer look at Mei Lin's features. As she kept her gaze lowered, he finally understood why he had misjudged her. His memories of her were limited to the small red mole on her brow and their interactions over the past few days. Even though they had once shared a bed, he couldn’t recall much about her. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t paid attention to her; it was clear that she had deliberately made herself easy to overlook.

Sensing his thoughtful gaze, Mei Lin lifted her eyes, meeting his without hesitation. The coldness in her eyes struck him straight to his core, causing his pupils to contract slightly.

Mei Lin’s lips tightened, then she smiled, though the coldness in her eyes didn’t fade. Despite this, Murong Jing He couldn’t help but acknowledge that she was indeed quite pretty, even though her beauty couldn’t compare to Muye Luo Mei.

"If the soil is poisonous, those stones are likely the same. Are you sure we should go in?" she asked again, seeking confirmation.

"Are you afraid?" Murong Jing He raised an eyebrow, about to make another taunt when his expression suddenly changed dramatically. His already pale face flushed bright red.

Mei Lin noticed that whenever they didn’t need to cooperate, they had trouble getting along. She was debating whether to snap back at him or ignore him when she suddenly heard a loud rumbling noise. Surprised, she asked, "Are you hungry?" She had been eating constantly along the way and felt stuffed, so how could he be hungry so quickly?

Murong Jing He clenched his fists, his immobile body twitching slightly in what seemed like a spasm. He turned his face away, squeezing out his words through gritted teeth, "I need to relieve myself." Apparently, his delicate stomach couldn’t handle all the strange things he had eaten along the way, and now it was rebelling.

In the past few days, he had tried to eat and drink as little as possible to avoid awkward situations. He hadn’t needed to relieve himself yet, and when it came to urinating, Mei Lin had helped him by placing his hand in position and then looking away while he managed the rest himself. But now that he needed to defecate, he was at a loss for what to do.

It wasn’t just him; Mei Lin was momentarily at a loss as well.

"Hurry up!" Seeing her still in a daze, Murong Jing He urged, embarrassed and angry.

"Oh, right," Mei Lin fumbled, reaching out to pull down his pants. But the more hurried she was, the more clumsy she became, accidentally tightening the belt into a knot.

"Cut it off, cut it off..." Murong Jing He was too desperate to even think of cursing, urging her frantically.

"Hold on, just a bit longer..." Mei Lin had almost loosened the knot and was reluctant to cut the belt. But in that moment of delay, there was a sudden sound, and a strong stench spread through the air.

She froze, while Murong Jing He turned his face away in shame.

* * *

By the stream, an area of the bamboo forest had been cleared, and a bonfire burned brightly in the middle. Two bamboo poles were propped up nearby, with freshly washed clothes hanging to dry.

Murong Jing He lay on a large rock that slanted into the water, with his entire body submerged in the icy stream except for his head. Mei Lin, half-immersed in the water, was scrubbing the filth from his body. Neither spoke—he was too embarrassed, and she felt a twinge of guilt.

Mei Lin knew that if it hadn’t been for her feeding him those random herbs and refusing to cut the belt, this embarrassing incident might not have happened. For a man, especially a prince of high status, this was more than just a loss of face; it was a severe blow to his dignity.

But she also realized that for a man paralyzed from head to toe, this kind of thing was inevitable sooner or later. In the future, she would have to take care of all his bodily needs. With this thought, the rare pang of conscience she had felt quickly vanished.

Using large, soft leaves, she carefully washed his back, thighs, and limbs, then reached between his legs to clean his most private parts. She felt his body shudder uncontrollably beneath her touch before he forced himself to remain still, though the tension in his muscles didn’t ease. Mei Lin quickened her pace, washing his back and then turning him over.

The firelight from a short distance away cast a dim, faintly yellow glow over the stream, just enough to reveal Murong Jing He’s closed eyes and the way he was biting his lower lip, now stained dark with blood. His expression made it clear how hard he was trying to suppress his shame.

Mei Lin sighed inwardly, realizing that if she wanted to ensure her survival, she might have to keep him paralyzed permanently.

The man, who had kept his eyes shut the entire time, had no idea what was going through her mind. And even if he did, he likely wouldn’t have cared.

They had been on the run for days, and this was the first chance they’d had to wash properly. Mei Lin took the opportunity to wash his hair as well. Once she had finished, she dragged him to the dry, soft leaves on the bank before retrieving his drying clothes from the fire.

The autumn night’s wind blew through her wet underclothes, chilling her to the bone. Without any internal energy to ward off the cold, her teeth chattered uncontrollably as she rushed back to the fire, grabbing his half-dried clothes and returning to the stream. She quickly wiped the cold water from his body with her hands and dressed him.

With great effort, she moved him back to the fire, laying him on his side on the thick, soft bamboo leaves to warm his now ice-cold body. She hoped he wouldn’t catch a cold, as that would only make their situation worse. Mei Lin then returned to the water, stripped off her soaked undergarments, washed them, and hung them in the space left by his clothes. Shivering, she gritted her teeth and re-entered the stream to thoroughly clean her body.

When Murong Jing He opened his eyes, she had already finished washing and was sitting by the fire, treating her wounds while wearing a thin, pink embroidered undershirt that exposed much of her snowy-white back. The sharp dagger had been heated over the fire, and she was skillfully cutting away the dead flesh from her wounds until fresh blood oozed out and trickled down her pale arm. Her wet, black hair hung down, with a few strands falling over her chest, dripping water. She deftly applied chewed herbs to the wounds and bandaged them. Apart from the slight furrow of her brows when she cut away the decayed flesh, she remained eerily calm throughout the entire process. Despite her tranquility, her nearly seductive attire lent her an understated allure.

Mei Lin, of course, was unaware of any allure. After treating the wounds on her arms and legs, she went back to the stream to wash off the blood before putting on her now-dry clothes. She then replaced her undershirt and undergarments, washed them, and hung them to dry. Finally, she rebandaged the wound on her palm with a fresh cloth strip.

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