Chapter Nineteen: Compulsion and Delay

Without needing a mirror, she knew how disheveled she must look. Xin Gan covered her nose, her forehead cool, her palm clammy, catching the scent of blood. She swallowed, the taste lingering in her throat.

Faced with Cheng Jiu’s teasing, she frowned and shot him an annoyed glare, muttering, “No.”

“Then why are you having a nosebleed? Let go of your hand, I’ll wipe it for you.”

Cheng Jiu went into the bathroom and returned with a towel. Seeing Xin Gan still clutching her nose, he chuckled softly and pried her hand away. She tried to resist, but he was quick, his other hand pinning her shoulder. His grip was strong and his palm broad; she winced from the pain and gasped, “It hurts.”

“Sorry,” Cheng Jiu said, releasing her. “I just needed you to let go.”

His words subtly blamed her for not cooperating, prompting him to act directly.

“Be good, lie still and don’t move,” he commanded.

Xin Gan fell silent, but obeyed, lying motionless.

Cheng Jiu gently wiped her nose with the towel. Earlier, his touch had been strong enough to hurt her, but now, as he cleaned the blood, his movements became noticeably gentle.

From Xin Gan’s angle, she saw his deep-set eyelids lowered, hiding his gaze. His lashes were thick and long, enviable even for a woman. Below, his nose was straight and prominent, and his lips pressed together, the corners seeming to curl in a hint of a smile, neither fully amused nor serious.

Xin Gan realized she was distracted and quickly looked away.

Cheng Jiu finished wiping her face, then her hands. His palm supported hers, the size difference between their hands clear as they overlapped. His touch was dry and warm against the back of her hand, while his other hand wiped her palm with the towel. Xin Gan was being completely cared for.

She felt embarrassed, her heart counting the seconds, staring at the ceiling, unwilling to meet his gaze.

After finishing, Cheng Jiu returned to the bathroom, washed the towel clean, and came back. He replaced the towel on her forehead with the freshly washed one.

Xin Gan pressed her lips together and, out of courtesy, thanked him.

Cheng Jiu scoffed softly, “No need to thank me. I failed to take care of you; it’s my responsibility.”

Xin Gan fell silent.

Cheng Jiu turned to the child. “What’s your name?”

A Songli glanced at Xin Gan and then at Cheng Jiu. “A Songli.”

After asking, Cheng Jiu looked at Xin Gan and called her name, “Xin Gan.”

Xin Gan kept her eyes on the ceiling, not daring to move. “Hmm?”

She couldn’t see that Cheng Jiu’s expression was now earnest and solemn.

“If you don’t want to be with me, I won’t force you.”

Xin Gan was silent.

“But don’t be too anxious. Ending the engagement isn’t easy. The elders arranged it long ago, and after so many years, they still remember. It shows how much they value it. To be honest with them, you need a proper reason—like if I died in battle, then you’d be free to marry whoever you wish. My family wouldn’t be able to stop you then.”

Xin Gan fell completely silent, biting her lower lip and murmuring, “It’s not that serious. Don’t curse yourself.”

Cheng Jiu laughed, “I’m serious. My current situation really shouldn’t hold you back. If somehow things work out between us, and one day I die in the line of duty, what would you do?”

His tone was light, not heavy.

Yet to Xin Gan, it left her uneasy. His profession was one to be proud of, but it was also filled with danger—unknown danger. At any moment, he could… die in service.

Xin Gan didn’t know how to respond.