"It's fine, I told you," Meng Jingwei squeezed Qing Muye's hand back. "Really, I'm not lying."
"Come here, let me see."
Qing Muye was still worried. He pulled Meng Jingwei to sit on the sofa and gently unraveled the bandage, unwinding it layer by layer.
The outer layers of gauze were white, but the inner layers were stained with blood, a circular bloodstain about half the size of a palm.
The light bloodstain was likely from the medicinal powder seeping out.
Qing Muye's brow furrowed. His movements became even gentler than before. Only when he had unwrapped the last layer of gauze did he discover that the wound, a cross-section cut, had almost severed the surface skin, with the other side still attached to the flesh.
Fortunately, the wound was only about the size of a thumb.
The man's suspended heart finally settled. Almost instinctively, he lowered his head and blew on the wound, then stared at it for a long time, his dark eyes growing deeper.
After a moment, he stood up, found the first-aid kit, and re-wrapped a clean bandage.
"I'm sorry you had to go through this."
Qing Muye placed the first-aid kit on the table and cupped his palm over her head, pulling her into his embrace.
During this process, he very carefully avoided her wound, afraid of hurting her.
"I told you it's fine."
Leaning in his arms, feeling the sound of his heart beating, Meng Jingwei felt that this moment was real and beautiful.
Qing Muye leaned against the sofa, holding her, but said nothing.
Only his eyes, fixed forward, held a hint of ferocity and chilling intent.
"Don't worry, this will never happen again." The man put an arm around her shoulder and held her fair hand, his thumb caressing the back of her hand, giving her endless tenderness.
Afterward, Qing Muye booked a suite next door. He carried the woman over and gently placed her on the bed in the bedroom. "Be good, sleep first. I'm going to take a shower."
"Mm."
Meng Jingwei nodded. "I'm not sleepy. I'll wait for you."
They exchanged a look, and Qing Muye said nothing more, turning to the bathroom to bathe.
However, when he finished showering and emerged from the bathroom wearing a bathrobe, he found Meng Jingwei already asleep on the bed.
Her cheek was pillowed on the sofa, her black hair spread casually on the pillow, making her sleeping face appear even more serene and docile.
Qing Muye turned off the lights, quietly got into bed, lifted the duvet, and lay beside her.
He knew she was a light sleeper and dared not disturb her. He simply placed a hand on her waist, finding immense beauty in feeling her steady breathing.
Meng Jingwei had always been highly alert, but perhaps because Qing Muye was beside her, she had let down her guard, feeling incredibly secure.
After sleeping for a while, she snuggled closer into the man's arms, finding a comfortable position to continue sleeping.
Busy with filming for consecutive days, she hadn't had a good rest. Now, she was truly exhausted.
She slept soundly all night, not even having a dream.
Morning.
The sun was bright, its warm rays streaming through the glass window and falling on Meng Jingwei's face. She stretched lazily and opened her sleepy eyes.
"Awake?"
Beside her, the man's deeply magnetic voice was so familiar and gentle.
She turned over and looked at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Then, she nudged closer to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and imprinted a kiss on his lips. "Good morning, Mr. Qing."
"Good morning, Mrs. Qing."
Qing Muye's lips curved into a contented smile. He tapped her nose with his finger. "Did you sleep well?"
"With you here, I slept very peacefully."
As she spoke, Meng Jingwei paused, then suddenly sat up. "Oh no. I'm in this room with you. Lan Shu will be worried sick if she can't find me! I have scenes to film with the crew today, the director is going to explode."
"I've already contacted Lan Shu and Director Li. Don't worry, lie down and sleep a little longer," he said.