Chapter 9 | Stubborn Mister

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Jingrui laid the masculine man onto her bed and let out an exhausted sigh. "You're bringing me trouble, you know that?" Jingrui grumbled as she stretched her sore arms.

The man groaned as he pushed himself to sit up. "Water. . ." he muttered, his voice filled with demands.

"What was that?" Jingrui asked as she lit candles around the cramped room.

"Water," he repeated, before coughing hard.

"O-Oh." She skimmed around the room for the jug of water and poured him a cup. "Here, here." She handed him the cup before sitting down on the edge of the bed, far from him.

He snatched it from her, and unlike the impulsiveness of his movements, he sipped the water down with a certain elegance.

Jingrui watched as his expression turned grim. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, and dressed in black, his fair skin looked ashen. She gulped when he handed back the cup. Something about him made her feel bleak and uneasy, but at the same time, there was something about him that flushed her with a sense of familiarity. She exhaled and shuffled in discomfort as the room thickened with silence.

When he refused to say a word for a prolonged period of time, Jingrui clenched his fists tightly as she roamed her mind for a way to break the silence. At last, she sighed and willed herself to speak. "Do you feel better?" she questioned, her voice almost inaudible.

He flinched at her words, his eyes wavered as he angled his face her way. His dull eyes flickered at her question as if he didn't quite understand.

Jingrui cleared her throat. "I can dress your wound."

His brows furrowed as he brushed his hair off the perfect bridge of his nose. Flipping the rest of his loose hair behind him, he stood up, towering her with his tall figure.

Within the dimmed candlelight, she could see a red trail of blood dripping from his black hanfu, staining the golden embroidery, and tainting his pale skin. He swayed slightly, and Jingrui shot up to support him.

The man turned to her, his eyes were dark like sombre clouds. "Who are you?" his hoarse voice scraped up his throat, pervading with threat.

Jingrui swallowed, her blood congealed at the coldness in his voice. She tore her gaze away from his dark and unyielding figure. "Y-You can barely walk, why are you so hasty to leave. I can—"

She stopped short when his hand shot out and clutched onto her wrist. There was a surprising amount of force behind his touch, and she felt substantial strength convulsed within his fingertips. Pain lanced through her bones where he held her, and she winced, trying to yank her wrist away from his grip. "M-Mister—"

"Who are you?" he asked again, his glacial tone pierced her bones.

Her breathing hitched as she glared up at his dark eyes. "C-Calm down, Mister. You really forsake my help. I'm Li Jingrui, a maid of the Floating Abyss Palace, and this is my first day in Heaven. I don't know who you are, Mister, but you are terribly injured. Not to mention, you are also blind. My sister always told me that I should help those who are in need to accumulate good karma."

He didn't move at her words, his head tilted to the side as if he didn't catch what she had just said.

Jingrui bit the inside of her cheeks as she tapped his hand softly. "Can you let go of me please, Mister? If you wish to leave, then I won't hold you back."

His brows arched slightly as he let go. She stumbled backward and regained balance just in time not to fall onto the floor. She flexed her sore wrist and glowered at him, sullen by his actions. She just wanted to help him, he didn't need to be so bitter about it. Acting unmannered like this brought back the memory of the jerk that invaded the Red Valley, and at that moment, Jingrui concluded that this behaviour was of the norm in the three realms.

The man no longer held the radiating threat. The flame that had been within his eyes a moment ago disappeared, and instead, they were filled with pain. He placed his bloody fingertips on his forehead, his jaw clenching. As he took a step towards the door, he ended up swaying, and in the end, Jingrui huffed and supported him back to the bed.

"Don't be stubborn now, Mister, you can barely walk. I'll dress your wound," she grumbled as she ripped a piece of cloth from her hanfu. "I don't know who you are caught up in a fight with, but I don't wish to be a part of it. So, once you feel better, you should quickly leave."

He cocked his head to the side again as if he didn't understand her actions. But only this time, he didn't question her. Jingrui could tell from the amount of blood he had lost that he didn't have any more strength to protest. She laid him down onto the bed and slowly peeled the soaked layers of clothes from his well-built form. A wince plastered over her face at the sight of his wound.

The man only shut his eyes and let sweat roll down his forehead.

Her saliva thickened as she scanned his raw wounds mangling over his old scars. Holding in her gagging, she wondered how many fights he must have gotten into in the past.

Most of his gashes were bleeding, but to her surprise, the large arrow wound by his heart was dry. She guessed the reason he was so weak was because he had used most of his inner powers to suppress the lethal wound by his heart.

She quickly bandaged the fabric around his waist and dressed him back up, feeling her stomach churning. By then, he seemed to have passed out cold, though his face still lacked lines of comfort.

Jingrui plopped down onto the ground, wiping sweat off her forehead. She yawned and laid her chin onto the bed mattress. "What have I gotten myself into," she groaned and covered her hands over her head. This immortal had such a foul temperament that she almost regretted saving him. Besides, she had her ambition to fulfill, and there was no time to mingle herself in with a stranger. She sighed at her own stupidity but what was done was done.

The night had drained her energy, and she shut her eyes. All she could think of was her sister and master, and her purpose for her trip to the Heavenly Palace. And at the back of her mind, she was suddenly reminded of one rule.

All affairs between maids and guards are strictly prohibited. If you are caught hiding a man in your room, tut-tut, say bye-bye to your head.

Her eyes snapped wide open, and she whimpered helplessly, "My head. . ."

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