Jing Yi's enchantingly beautiful face briefly contorted with ruthlessness.
However, when his deep fox-like eyes beheld Jing Chen's sleeping visage, they surprisingly softened. Certain emotions, hidden in darkness and shunned by the light, seemed to trickle out only when she couldn't see them.
His fingertips trembling, he reached out to touch Jing Chen's face, but the moment he made contact, Jing Yi jolted as if seared, quickly retracting his hand. He shrank into a corner, loathing himself, like a child who had done something wrong, his gaze flitting about nervously.
Jing Yi didn't rush to take Jing Chen away; instead, he gulped down the liquor, the strong alcohol boiling in his stomach, burning fiercely.
"Cough cough...cough..."
Jing Yi pulled out a tissue, covering his mouth, coughing in suppressed bursts, fearful of waking the person who lay peacefully sleeping in the room.
His throat tore with pain, and on the snow-white tissue, a bright red stain of blood emerged...