He remained sharp-featured and handsome, but the edge had been blanched from his entire being.
At this moment, Shen Yue felt an indescribable sensation, one she couldn't quite place.
Shen Yue simply couldn't understand how Sang Fan had brought himself to this state in just a few days.
The way he looked.
It felt as though he was on the verge of tears.
Not just a feeling, but a certainty.
Shen Yue wasn't sleepy, her face was a little pale. She had rushed out, her soft, beautiful hair messily falling onto her chest. The bright colors of her printed top made her pallid face appear morbidly pale, yet with a hint of allure.
Sang Fan pursed his lips, the vibrant color striking against his pale face. He looked up at Sang Fan, nodding lightly with a soft movement.
He smiled, appearing very happy, and naturally reached for Shen Yue's hand, which rested beside her.
"Let's go home then."
He spoke slowly, enunciating clearly, drawing out his words as if afraid of being refused.
Shen Yue's hand was a little cool, not from the cold, but because of her constitution.
In truth, Shen Yue wanted to say that Sang Fan wasn't wrong in his words, it wasn't "let's go home," but rather "I'm taking you home."
Shen Yue had already hailed a taxi, waiting at the hospital entrance. Shen Yue supported Sang Fan's arm as they walked with difficulty.
The rain had lessened, but it was still falling. Aside from the streetlights, there was no other light along the road.
By the time they got into the car, Shen Yue was panting, exhausted. Sang Fan was tall and heavy, such a large man, leaning almost entirely on her, nearly at a loss.
After telling the driver the address, silence fell in the car.
Sang Fan lowered his head, his well-defined fingers tightly gripping Shen Yue's clothes, as if afraid Shen Yue would leave him alone.
Initially, he had wanted to hold her hand, but Shen Yue didn't want that, so he grudgingly settled for clinging to her clothes.
Shen Yue glanced at Sang Fan, unable to resist asking, "Doesn't your wound hurt?"
She was referring to the gash on his forehead. It looked quite deep and wasn't bleeding, but it appeared rather grim.
However, Sang Fan showed no change in his expression, acting as if he were perfectly fine.
Sang Fan was tall, and even when seated, his presence and oppressive aura remained strong. He hid his emotions, his restless fingers rubbing back and forth, gently caressing Shen Yue's clothes.
His throat felt dry. He took a breath and uttered an unexpected answer.
"It hurts."
Shen Yue blinked, the stray strands of hair at her forehead brushing against the slightly reddened corner of her eye. She furrowed her brow, turned her head slightly, paused, her lips pressed together, her eyes moist, seeming to want to say something, but in the end, said nothing.
As they passed a pharmacy, Shen Yue asked the driver to stop. She picked up her umbrella and opened the car door to get out, but felt a tug on her clothes.
As she turned her head, she saw Sang Fan, sitting in the dim rear of the car, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot, his head bowed. His black hair was disheveled over his forehead, making it impossible to discern his emotions.
His voice was somewhat low and hoarse, seeming to carry an unusual tremor and fear.
"You, you, where are you going?"
Shen Yue frowned, but still spoke calmly, "Let go."
Sang Fan not only didn't let go but gripped even tighter. Shen Yue could feel her clothes being pulled down slightly.
Sang Fan's head drooped lower. Despite his towering stature, he exuded a stubborn sense of grievance, his lips trembling as he tried to suppress it.
The driver chuckled at the sight, assuming they were a couple and quipped, "Are young people these days so clingy? Can't bear to be apart for even a minute?"
Unintended words, but heard by one with intent.
Shen Yue was thin-skinned. A faint blush appeared on her pale face. Fortunately, there was no light, and no one could see.
She clutched her clothes, unable to pull away. She had no choice but to soften her voice and explain, "I'm going to buy medicine. Let go quickly."
Sang Fan seemed very uneasy, his knuckles turning white, his gaze fixed intently on Shen Yue, like a beast locked onto its prey. With darkness as his disguise, he wore a sheep's skin, but his fangs had long since been revealed.
Finally, Sang Fan slowly released his grip.
Shen Yue, holding her transparent umbrella, quickly disappeared.
Sang Fan's aura turned extremely oppressive as he clenched his fists.
The driver made a couple of remarks but received no response. He muttered to himself, "How strange," but didn't press further.
Five minutes passed.
Sang Fan became visibly agitated. His eyes were fixed on the spot where Shen Yue had disappeared, his fingers interlaced, his knuckles turning white with the strain.
A desolate wind blew, withered branches swayed, and all was silent.
Sang Fan's chest heaved violently, his face pale. The blood on his forehead made him appear ferocious and grim.
Three minutes later.
A slender, delicate figure finally emerged from the darkness. She held a bag of medicine and closed her umbrella as she got into the car.
The car drove smoothly.
Shen Yue placed the medicine into Sang Fan's hand, carefully explaining how to take it in divided doses, and gave him a leaflet. If he couldn't understand, he could refer to the instructions.
Only one light was on in the dim rear of the car. In the cramped space, with Sang Fan being so tall, his long legs were awkwardly tucked. The two of them inevitably brushed against each other, and the air seemed to slowly heat up.
The streetlight cast light through the car window onto her face. In the interplay of light and shadow, her skin was as white as jade, and her lips were like flowers.
As she spoke, her lips parted. Her face was as white as snow, her lips as vibrant as flower nectar, appearing soft and kissable.
Sang Fan stared intently, trying his best to suppress the strange sensations in his chest. He seemed to feel the circulation of blood with each violent beat of his heart, uncontrollable.
He whispered a warning.
Don't beat so fast anymore.
His heart remained unmoved.
Sang Fan lowered his dark eyes, concealing all his emotions. He slightly bowed his head, his thick eyelashes obscuring his eyes, leaving dark circles beneath them, like a bottomless abyss.
Beneath this seemingly indifferent exterior was the scorching surge of volcanic magma.
He clutched Shen Yue's clothes.
He hadn't let go.
He was still gripping them tightly.
He was still holding on desperately, even after safely taking her home.
The apartment looked somewhat desolate, indicative that the owner hadn't returned home for a long time.
Shen Yue wanted to leave, but her clothes were held tightly. Unless she took off her clothes, she truly had no way to depart.
It was still raining outside, and Shen Yue feared the cold. He simply felt there was no need to mistreat his own body.
Shen Yue had no choice but to look at Sang Fan helplessly, lowering her voice, "Sang Fan, I need to go."
His voice was hoarse, like a child who had made a mistake, repeating the same few words over and over: "Don't go, don't go..."