Night. Rain.
After clocking out from the night shift, Song Zhixiang fastened her seat belt and drove home.
Thunder rumbled overhead. She had already been driving for quite some time, yet the rain showed no sign of letting up. Instead, it only grew heavier.
Visibility was far too poor, so Song Zhixiang drove slowly with both her fog lights and hazard lights on. The road leading to the cemetery was remote, located on the outskirts of the city. There was not a single person in sight. Apart from the roar of the torrential rain, the only things on the entire road were the lonely beams of her headlights and the windscreen wipers swaying relentlessly from side to side.
The night was pitch-black.
Her phone screen suddenly lit up as several messages popped up.
Colleague Xiao Li: Sister Song, why don’t you turn around and come back? The rain’s too heavy. City A has issued several yellow safety alerts recently. It might not be safe this late at night.
Colleague Xiao Li: Just make do at the office for one night. There was even a report on the news yesterday about a rear-end collision in severe weather. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and there isn’t a hospital for miles if something happens.
Song Zhixiang glanced at the messages out of the corner of her eye but did not reply.
She calculated the distance. She had already made it this far, and her home was not too far away now. No matter how heavy the rain was, if she continued inching forward, she would reach home soon enough. Turning back at this point might be even more dangerous.
Just as she was thinking this, her slowly advancing headlights suddenly illuminated a broken piece of metal.
It was a bumper that had been knocked off a car.
She instinctively pressed the brake, slowing down. However, more and more fragments of metal appeared within the range of her headlights. By the time the car came to a complete stop, the beams were shining directly upon two vehicles that had collided.
One of them merely had its front end destroyed. All its windows had shattered, and there was no one inside.
The other had been struck squarely in the middle and mangled beyond recognition. It no longer resembled a car at all, and even its licence plate had been smashed into pieces.
Hiss…
You might not see a single car in this godforsaken place for three or five days, yet the moment one finally appeared, it had crashed this badly?
Song Zhixiang sucked in a breath and took out her phone to call the police. She had only pressed two buttons when a hand abruptly reached out from the wreckage ahead and clutched the broken licence plate.
Blood streamed down the arm, spreading across the metal in a vivid scarlet stain.
Song Zhixiang froze.
“…You turned into a ghost pretty quickly.”
The hand suddenly dropped.
A shiver ran through her entire body.
“Holy crap. I think that’s a living person.”
Her delayed reaction could not entirely be blamed on her.
After all, she worked at a cemetery in Changping District. Apart from her handful of colleagues and the occasional scattered customer, most of the human-shaped things she encountered on a daily basis were generally no longer breathing.
Song Zhixiang tossed her phone aside and climbed out of the car without even opening an umbrella.
Although she enjoyed peace and quiet and suffered from a mild case of social anxiety, her greatest virtue was her willingness to help others. She had loved helping people ever since she was young, radiating warmth and expecting nothing in return.
She was simply that kind-hearted.
Her benevolent instincts instantly kicked in. She pulled off the wrecked car door, leaned inside, and dragged the person out.
A man dressed in a suit was lying inside. His hair was dishevelled, and by the time she pulled him free, his entire body had been soaked by the rain. Blood dripped steadily from his fingers.
“Are you still conscious?”
Song Zhixiang reached out and patted his face. Her hand moved faster than her eyes. After the first pat, however, the second one stopped midway.
The man’s hair was drenched, the wet strands plastered against his cheeks and revealing an extraordinarily handsome face. His nose was high and straight, his jawline beautifully sculpted, and his long eyelashes were soaked and clumped together, droplets of water dripping from them.
The ever-helpful Song Zhixiang paused with her palm in the air.
Stunned into silence by his beauty for a second, she said, “Isn’t it a little illegal to be this handsome?”
The man in the suit had already passed out and gave no response.
Song Zhixiang forcibly tore her gaze away from him and examined his body.
All right. He had quite a few external injuries, but none of his bones seemed to be broken. Rather than having serious internal injuries, he appeared to have collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
My, my. You should count your lucky stars you fell into my hands.
Song Zhixiang cheerfully praised herself. Not everyone would step forward without hesitation and perform such a heroic rescue.
Carefully avoiding his wounds, she wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and hauled him into the front passenger seat, lest he remain outside in the rain and die from his injuries.
Song Zhixiang closed the door, checked the messages on her phone, and thought it over.
This place was far too distant from the nearest hospital. She had a first-aid kit at home, so perhaps she could take him back and treat his injuries first. Her house was practically within sight, anyway.
But doing that would be risky…
Perhaps she should avoid inviting trouble.
Miss Song sat with her hands on the steering wheel, deep in thought. She searched for the city hospital’s phone number and was just about to call when her gaze suddenly landed on the outline of the man’s abdominal muscles beneath his clothing.
Her hand paused.
The man’s suit jacket had been covered in blood, so she had thrown it outside. Beneath it, he wore only a white shirt. His tie remained properly fastened around his neck, although it had loosened slightly.
The soaked shirt concealed practically nothing.
His neatly defined abdominal muscles were visible through the fabric, arranged in firm rows across his stomach. They looked powerful and solid.
Exceptionally tempting.
Song Zhixiang stared for a while and swallowed.
Pressing a hand against her head, she slowly shook it.
“No. If he dies in my house, who am I supposed to explain that to? What use is a beautiful corpse…”
Even as she spoke, however, her gaze drifted uncontrollably upwards.
Forget his perfectly defined abs. By looking just a little higher, she could see his full, impressively trained pectoral muscles. They bulged beneath the white shirt as though they were about to burst through the flimsy fabric. One of the buttons appeared to be trembling from the strain, bravely struggling to restrain the man’s broad chest.
Song Zhixiang unconsciously wiped the corner of her mouth.
You see, while her greatest virtue was her willingness to help others, her greatest flaw was…
She was a little lustful.
But being attracted to beauty was perfectly normal. She did not see anything wrong with it. Who in this world was not attracted to good looks? Who did not enjoy a little naughtiness?
She had always regarded it as a harmless little flaw.
At this moment, however, it was becoming somewhat inconvenient.
Song Zhixiang rubbed her head, her reason thoroughly clouded by lust. Somehow, without even knowing how it had happened, she drove the man all the way back to her house.
It was not until she had placed him on her bed and crouched on the floor to rummage through her first-aid kit that she suddenly came to her senses.
She stared blankly at the bandages in her hands for a moment.
Then she raised her head and looked at the man lying on the bed.
She looked down at her own hands.
“What a miscalculation.”
Song Zhixiang slapped the back of her hand and muttered in exasperation, “What are you doing? What are you doing? Not only have you brought trouble home, you’ve also—”
The man on the bed let out a pained groan.
Song Zhixiang shot to her feet and sat beside him with the antiseptic medicine and bandages.
She reached out, peeled aside the remains of his clothing, and began cleaning, disinfecting, and bandaging his wounds with absolute concentration and wholehearted dedication.
These wounds have been soaked until the edges have turned white…
Holy crap, his chest is huge.
Song Zhixiang abruptly shook her head and slapped her cheeks, banishing the strange thoughts from her mind.
This wound is really deep. It’s almost down to the bone…
Goodness, his waist is so narrow. Broad shoulders and a slim waist—what a figure…
She pinched her thigh and nearly slapped herself across the face.
His legs aren’t broken either. Why does he have so many little wounds?
Hiss… That doesn’t look very small…
The ever-helpful Miss Song fell silent again.
She turned her head away, pressed her palms together, and said solemnly to the man, “Please forgive me, Male Bodhisattva. I’m only doing this to save your life. I am absolutely not deliberately entertaining wicked thoughts.”
The man had previously been lying obediently on the bed, but halfway through the bandaging, he suddenly began trembling as though his entire body were unbearably uncomfortable.
Half of his external wounds split open and started bleeding again.
He breathed heavily, his face burning hot as though he had developed a fever.
This was bad.
With his injuries and the amount of time he had spent in the rain, a fever could become a serious problem.
Song Zhixiang immediately regained her clarity. She pressed him down and tried to keep him from moving, but before she could find a single uninjured place to hold, he had already rubbed the bedsheets into a wrinkled mess.
That firm, lean, healthy body—which was pleasing enough to admire from a distance—twisted and shifted against her little floral bedsheets.
Song Zhixiang: “…”
Wouldn’t this scene be dangerously close to violating television regulations?
While she was still staring blankly, the man suddenly summoned strength from somewhere. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him.
His wounded body pressed firmly against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, exchanging body heat with her as he pushed her down against the foot of the bed.
The frail single bed let out an injured creak.
Soft, springy muscles pressed down on her.
Song Zhixiang felt as though she had been sealed in place.
A wounded, feverish man who had only just passed out from exhaustion could actually pin her down…
Using this kind of method to restrain her was utterly shameless!
…But he was so soft.
How could a man’s chest possibly be this large?
Song Zhixiang’s mind went blank for a second.
She silently stared at the ceiling and heard the man whisper hoarsely and weakly beside her ear.
“Save me…”
“I already am,” she said with complete honesty. “I’m working very hard to save you.”
“Antidote…”
“Antidote?”
Song Zhixiang turned his face towards her and examined him carefully.
“You’ve been poisoned? That shouldn’t be possible. My examination wouldn’t be wrong…”
The man failed to finish his next sentence.
He buried his face against Song Zhixiang’s neck. Then, like an unruly canine, he suddenly opened his mouth and bit her.
He did not draw blood, but his sharp teeth left a circle of red marks on her fair neck.
“What is the meaning of this? This is seduction!”
Miss Song’s heart trembled from the bite. Gritting her teeth, she slowly forced each word into his ear.
“I’m a respectable woman. Do you think I’m going to fall for this?”
Her warm breath tickled his ear. Like a small animal, the man shook his head and moved away.
Then he grabbed her shoulders, opened his mouth, and bit her lip.
“You…”
Song Zhixiang’s pupils shook violently.
She stared at the face directly before her. He still appeared dazed. His long, wet eyelashes, clumped together by the rain, trembled faintly.
Beyond them, she could see a pair of light-brown eyes that were almost amber.
His gaze was unfocused, as though he was barely conscious.
Song Zhixiang stared at him and licked her lips.
What did it mean for someone to look good enough to eat?
Wasn’t this exactly what it meant?
She suddenly raised both hands and cupped the man’s cheeks.
Staring straight at him, she asked, “Do you have a wife? A girlfriend? I’ll have you know that I’m a very moral person…”
The man narrowed his amber eyes.
With that expression, he somehow looked both innocent and bewitching.
He lowered his head and burrowed into Song Zhixiang’s embrace, rubbing against her like a kitten or puppy. He shook his head in denial and said hoarsely, “My family wouldn’t allow it…”
“What wouldn’t your family allow?”
“…It’s my first time.”
He answered in a daze, as though talking in his sleep. Then he pulled her hand towards his arm.
“Chastity mark…”
“You think you’re filming a historical drama? What chastity mark?”
Song Zhixiang did not believe a word of it.
She pulled her hand back, grabbed his damp hair, and lowered her voice.
“Whether you’re a virgin or not, I’ll know once I try.”
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