Chapter 50: 050 Tending to the Neck Injury part 1
Zhu Ran never expected Z to be waiting for him outside the hotel.
Catching sight of the man standing by the hovercar, Zhu Ran felt a flicker of surprise, followed by a soft, genuine tug at his heartstrings.
His gaze softened, and a faint smile played across his lips—gentle and radiant, like the warmth of a spring morning.
Zhu Ran hurried over to Z in a few quick steps. “Why are you here? Have you been waiting long?”
Z kept his eyes lowered, his aura cold, silent, and stoic.
His gaze swept over Zhu Ran almost imperceptibly, as if confirming he was unharmed, before finally coming to rest on Zhu Ran’s face.
Likely due to the lighting, his blue pupils seemed a shade deeper than usual.
Z’s voice was a register lower than normal. “I came to pick you up. I haven’t been here long.”
Z’s presence was always understated, but today he wore black leather gloves, and his shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, concealing most of the skin on his neck. He looked incredibly ascetic.
Zhu Ran couldn’t quite put his finger on it—whether it was the outfit or a change in his disguise—but Z felt slightly different today.
Zhu Ran tilted his head slightly, observing Z for a long moment.
“Why do you keep staring at me?”
Z’s tone remained calm, yet being scrutinized so closely by Zhu Ran caused the possessiveness buried in his bones to leak out.
Beneath the sea-blue depths of his eyes, polished by the sunlight, a storm was brewing.
His hands tightened instinctively.
“It’s nothing. I suppose I just haven’t seen you like this in a while. You look a bit different than you do at home.”
Zhu Ran changed the subject. “Let’s head back!”
As the hovercar glided smoothly through the air, Z took the initiative to start a conversation. “How did the cleanup of the mutated plants go?”
“The Outer District isn’t much different from the Lower District…”
Although Zhu Ran had already given a brief summary over the Starcom earlier, he recounted the day’s events in more detail since Z had asked.
When he mentioned Mu Qingzhou using his ice ability to freeze a massive swath of Black Thorns, creating a beautiful world of frost and snow, the corners of Z’s mouth visibly curved downward by a few degrees.
When he spoke about giving Mu Qingzhou aromatherapy—and how the man had been so tense he couldn’t relax—Z knit his brows, appearing lost in thought.
By the time Zhu Ran finished his story, the short journey had come to an end.
The hovercar came to a halt beneath Zhu Ran’s residence.
The interior of the vehicle was small and enclosed, with poor air circulation, making scents much more noticeable.
In this cramped space, there was the scent of Zhu Ran, a faint hint of lavender essential oil, and… a trace of blood.
Zhu Ran was puzzled.
Where was the smell of blood coming from? There was even a faint scent of singed fabric…
Zhu Ran took a couple of sniffs, following the metallic scent.
Finally, he leaned in close to Z’s neck, confirming the source of the smell was indeed Z.
Zhu Ran’s expression turned serious. “Are you injured?”
Z didn’t answer directly. “It’s nothing serious. We’re home, let’s get out first.”
Once they returned inside, Zhu Ran grabbed Z’s hand, intending to push him onto the sofa.
However, the moment they stepped into the living room, they found the place in total shambles. It looked as though a violent explosion had occurred; the scene was no less chaotic than the day Z had first emerged from the spatial rift during a spiritual sea riot, leaving the house filled with smoke and debris.
The coffee table was shattered and cracked, and the floor and walls were covered in jagged gouges. The armrest of the sofa had been sent flying by some external force… and within every blade-like scar, there lingered the sharp, frenzied fluctuations of spiritual energy.
The only thing in the entire living room left unscathed was a single, light green throw pillow.
In the middle of the wreckage, it stood out starkly.
Zhu Ran didn’t need to guess what had happened. During the time he was away, Z had suffered another spiritual sea riot.
Zhu Ran’s face instantly went cold.
The living room was clearly in no state to sit in. Zhu Ran pulled Z by the hand and led him into Z’s bedroom.
He shoved Z down onto the bed, and without saying a single word, reached out to unbutton Z’s shirt.
Z tilted his head, trying to dodge.
“Don’t move.”
Zhu Ran didn’t play nice. He cupped Z’s chin, forcing him to stay still.
Zhu Ran quickly undid the buttons of Z’s collar.
Because the fabric had stuck to the wound, pulling the collar away caused the injury—a mess of blood and scorch marks—to seep fresh blood. The crimson fluid trickled down the curve of his neck toward his collarbone, where it was eventually absorbed by the black fabric of his shirt, leaving no trace.
The wound wrapped entirely around Z’s neck. It was a gruesome sight.
Zhu Ran’s aura grew even colder.
Z had worn a high collar to hide the wound.
He had worn a black shirt to hide the blood.
Z’s voice was deep because his throat had been injured.
Zhu Ran had known something was off, and now the mystery was solved.
Zhu Ran was furious. How had Z managed to mangle himself like this in just half a day?
He wanted to demand an explanation, to ask how on earth Z had done this to himself.
Yet, seeing the severity of the wound and the suppressed pain in Z’s expression, a flash of heartache flickered in his green eyes.
He released Z’s chin, his tone laced with suppressed anger. “What happened?”
Z didn’t hide anything. “I lost control of my emotions suddenly.”
His voice was low, and with his head slightly bowed, the sharp, imposing aura he’d had when picking up Zhu Ran had completely vanished.
From Zhu Ran’s perspective, he actually looked a bit pitiful.
“You were fine just a few days ago. How did you get yourself hurt again?”
“Sit there. Don’t you dare move.”
Zhu Ran spoke as he left to fetch the ointment.
Within a minute, he was back.
Z sat obediently on the edge of the bed. He had dropped his disguise, revealing his original golden hair and heterochromatic eyes.
When Zhu Ran approached, Z looked up at him. His mismatched eyes were clear, his gaze focused.
Suddenly, Zhu Ran had a vision… of a giant cat waiting for its master to come home.
…
It must be because he’d been looking at too many “heterochromia cat” memes lately. That was why he was seeing Z as a big cat.
Zhu Ran shook the strange thought from his mind.
He first used a diagnostic tool to check Z’s status.
[Spiritual Sea Damage: 89.8%] [Fluctuation Value: 28]
The damage wasn’t trending upward, but the fluctuation value had jumped by more than ten points. Two more points and it would be outside the safe range.
Zhu Ran first turned on the humidifier; lavender essential oil would help soothe Z’s spiritual sea.
Then, he undid a few more buttons on Z’s shirt, stopping just below the collarbone.
He sat down beside Z, pulled the collar open with one hand, and picked up the ointment with the other.
The ointment was the same one they’d used when Z was subjected to the electric torture. He dipped his index finger into the translucent gel and began to apply it to Z’s neck.
As the cool gel touched his skin, Z’s muscles twitched in a reflex.
“Look up.”
Z obeyed, causing the lines of his neck and his Adam’s apple to become more pronounced.
The wound was just below the Adam’s apple. As Zhu Ran applied the medicine, his finger inevitably brushed against it.
With every touch, Z’s Adam’s apple bobbed, making it difficult for Zhu Ran to apply the gel smoothly.
Zhu Ran’s expression was stern. “Stop moving.”
Z let out a soft, sudden chuckle. “That’s not exactly something I can control.”
Z’s hands gripped the soft duvet beneath him. The messy folds and the shadows cast by the light lent the scene a strange, charged atmosphere.
The alluring fragrance, the proximity of their bodies, and the sensation of fingertips grazing skin were like a spark to a tinderbox.
Suddenly, Z didn’t want the medicine anymore. He only wanted to pull Zhu Ran into his arms and… thoroughly stain the other with his own scent.
His Adam’s apple bobbed again, involuntarily.
Just as Zhu Ran tried to apply more gel, Z moved again. Zhu Ran felt helpless. “Can’t you just endure it for a moment?”
Because of the constant contact, Z’s voice had gone hoarse, thick with heat and intimacy.
“I can’t.”
Z’s voice was impossibly deep.
It reminded Zhu Ran of the day they’d used the mutated essential oil, when Z had asked in that same magnetic tone, “Do you need help?”
Zhu Ran’s hand faltered for a fraction of a second before he hurried to finish the application.
“Well, you’ll have to. It’s almost done.”
The gel brought a cooling sensation followed by a slight sting. Z’s neck muscles twitched reflexively again.
The reaction was so obvious that Zhu Ran noticed immediately.
Thinking Z was in pain, he leaned in and gently blew on the wound.
Whoosh…
His warm breath, carrying that pleasant fragrance, brushed against the sensitive skin of Z’s neck like soft flower petals.
Z’s entire attention was hyper-focused on his neck. His grip on the bedsheets tightened, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.
“Don’t… blow…”
Z managed to choke out the words with great difficulty.
Then, Zhu Ran watched as Z’s skin turned from pale to pink. He watched as the veins in Z’s neck stood out in stark relief. He watched as Z’s wound—which had already begun to scab and heal—started to seep beads of blood again because of Z’s excitement and accelerated heart rate.
Zhu Ran was stunned. He stopped what he was doing.
“Are you alright?”
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