Chapter 27: Remarkable Restraint

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

After sending the message, Jiang Shaocheng glanced sideways at Tang Qiu. She was truly a beauty, and a spirited one at that. It was no surprise that she would have some admirers in university, but if anyone dared to try and take his woman from him, they were as good as courting trouble.
Tang Qiu had been studying the documents intently. Out of the blue, she exclaimed, “It turns out that a man’s privates are full of nerves, making it incredibly easy to get an erection. How fascinating…”

Jiang Shaocheng was speechless.

Tang Qiu was examining the information purely through the lens of a medical student, with nothing indecent in mind, which is why didn’t give her words a second thought. But then she noticed the way her husband was staring at her, and was faced with the sudden urge to bite her tongue off. Her
husband couldn’t engage in intercourse, so this must be a sensitive topic for him. She must have wounded his pride with what she had said.

She laughed awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “Are you thirsty, dear?” she asked, her tone more sugar-sweet than usual. “Shall I get some water for you?”

Jiang Shaocheng did indeed find himself nursing a thirst.

The girl was right. There were many things that could provoke a physical response from a man. For example, a mere sentence from his wife could send fire surging through his loins.
“Come here, Qiu.”

He fixed his gaze on her, and Tang Qiu was paralyzed by embarrassment. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

She still wouldn’t come. On the contrary, she looked as though she‘d rather flee. Something stirred in the dark depths of his eyes. “I’m thirsty,” he said. “Id like some water.”

Tang Qiu nodded, shot to her feet, and dashed out of the room. She re-entered with a cup of water in hand. While she was passing it to Jiang Shaocheng, it fell and shattered on the carpet, splashing him with water. Tang Qiu let out a cry of alarm and hurried to help dry his sleeves. In her haste, she didn’t
realize that her husband had deliberately let the cup slip from his grasp. She had poured hot water for him; while it was nowhere near boiling, the temperature was still enough to mildly scald him.

“Did I injure you? I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
He had been the one to let go of the cup to begin with. Jiang Shaocheng let himself fall back into the guise of a weak, frail cripple. “It’s all my fault. Isn’t it? I didn’t have enough strength, and…”

“I should have put the cup on the table earlier, since I knew you were…” She cut herself off. “It’s my fault.”

Guilt flooded Tang Qiu. The hot water had spilled directly onto his legs, but he hadn’t even flinched. He had truly lost all sensation in his legs, including the ability to feel pain.

Jiang Shaocheng noticed her eyes growing red. “Why are you crying, Qiu?” he asked, with a sudden tinge of guilt.

“You really couldn’t feel anything in your legs, dear? Even though the water was so hot?”

“I did, actually, but just a little.” Jiang Shaocheng hated seeing her cry. He wrapped his arms around her, enveloping his little wife in his embrace. Besides, she was careful by nature, and the water had been warm at most, nowhere near as hot as she had claimed.
“Really?”

“Really,” he assured her. “I’m fine. Help me back to the bedroom so I can change my clothes.”

“Change clothes? Oh. Yes. Of course.”

Tang Qiu dried her eyes and pushed his wheelchair back to their bedroom. She searched for a fresh pair of clothes for him. When she turned around, she was startled to see that he had already unbuttoned his shirt, lending her a clear view of his bare chest. She stared, stunned, for two whole seconds,
before whirling back round.

Jiang Shaocheng set aside his damp pajamas. “Qiu?”

“Yes? Oh.” Tang Qiu hurriedly thrust the new set of clothes at him.

“Ican’t reach it.” Jiang Shaocheng stretched out his hand in a helpless bid to close the distance between them.

Tang Qiu stepped forward two paces, only to be caught off-guard when Jiang Shaocheng grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. Her eyes widened in shock.
“Jiang Shaocheng, you…”
“call me ‘dear’.”

She was so close to him that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He had been so frail before. How did he have the strength to pull her towards him? Briefly, she imagined that he could lift her clean off the ground, but that was just absurd.
“Let me up, dear. I must be very heavy.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s lips curved. He slid an arm around her slender waist. “I’m quite content to have you sit on me.”

“You need to put on some clothes,” Tang Qiu urged worriedly. “Or you might catch a cold.”

“Sure. Help me put them on, then.”

Tang Qiu stared at him. Just when she thought he couldn’t get more childish, he did; nothing at all like a thirty-year-old man. But he was ill, so she could only accommodate him, coddling him like she would a child.

Seated on his lap, she helped to dress him. He obediently stretched out his arms, and his masculine musk swept over her; a strong, heady scent. All the while, she could hear the pattern of his breathing, a steady rhythm beside her ear.

She felt herself begin to itch. The sensation enveloped her, like a net, spreading from her ears, to her neck, making her heart race.

“Qiu, your ears are red. And your face is flushed,” he said in a low voice, his lips close enough to brush her ear. “Are you unwell?”

What’s wrong with me? Her head was swimming, and something was stirring in her veins-a strange, foreign excitement she couldn’t quite place.

Maybe I really am ill after all.

“No. I’m fine…”

Jiang Shaocheng thought that he had done a remarkable job restraining himself, until he heard her soft, sweet voice. It was like a tantalizing fruit, dangling before him, but also somehow a plea for comfort.

In that moment, though, with his bare skin pressed against hers, he felt only lust..