Di Ronghua’s gaze faltered for a moment.
In the brief silence, her eyes grew colder as she looked at him. “I just don’t want to owe you.”
Xiao Hanjin’s lips curved faintly. “You don’t owe me. I owe you.”
Di Ronghua took a slight breath, steadying herself. “I don’t want to discuss this. Let go.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one letting go?” A hint of amusement flickered back into his eyes. “Ronghua, you feel obligated to ask because you’ve received my favor. I’m telling you now there’s nothing wrong. Shouldn’t that put you at ease?”
He watched her, adding calmly, “If you keep pushing, that’s extra concern.”
The atmosphere around them froze abruptly.
Not a tense standoff, but a chilling stillness.
Di Ronghua’s grip tightened unconsciously.
Before she could speak, her chin was suddenly caught. His handsome face drew closer, and she stiffened, barely holding herself still. But he showed no sign of stopping—his thin lips nearly brushed the corner of her mouth.
“Xiao Hanjin!”
Her pupils shrank. She yanked her hand free and stumbled back quickly.
A flash of self-mockery darted through his eyes, though the curve of his lips deepened. “What’s wrong?” His cool, shadowed gaze—sometimes deep, sometimes light—fixed on her as he murmured, “I thought we’d reached an understanding.”
Di Ronghua shut her eyes briefly. “Since you’re fine, I won’t disturb you.”
She turned to leave.
Xiao Hanjin watched her retreating figure, his gaze darkening several shades.
He stood there for a long moment before walking over to close the door she’d left open, untying his belt and slowly shedding his clothes.
On his well-defined chest, bandages were wrapped tightly.
Unwinding them revealed a strange, burn-like red mark!
…
Di Ronghua hurried out of the Dragon Chant Palace, not pausing even when she passed Fan Jiang at the entrance.
It wasn’t until the little fox, still in its animal form, appeared that her steps slowed slightly.
“So, was it him?” Xiao Jiu asked.
“…Probably.”
She was quiet for a moment before saying, “He didn’t admit it, but the remaining Man Yue flowers are likely in the palace.”
Xiao Jiu blinked, looking at her in confusion. “Why wouldn’t he admit it? This would’ve been a perfect chance to reconcile with you.”
Di Ronghua’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t know.”
This wasn’t like Xiao Hanjin.
From what she knew of him, he’d typically let this fact slip “casually,” then use an excuse like “too injured to move” to gain her sympathy and cling to her for care.
Gradually infiltrating her life until she couldn’t resist.
Not like he’d just acted—too aggressive, too forceful.
Almost as if… he was deliberately pushing her away.
But she didn’t dare dwell on it. If she thought too deeply, the only possible explanation was enough to spark an instinctive panic.
Xiao Jiu saw through her thoughts in an instant. A fluffy fox paw reached out to nudge her hand. “Rong Rong, if he really…”
Her pupils contracted sharply, and Xiao Jiu’s voice cut off.
After a pause, it switched tack. “You don’t want anything to happen to him. You really don’t, right?”
Di Ronghua lowered her lashes. “When have I ever wanted anything to happen to him?”
She’d hated him, resented him.
But even at the height of misunderstandings and loathing, she’d never wished him dead—let alone now, when some things had proven to be mere misconceptions.
