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How dumb she was. Even if she saw the palm print on his face, she should not have pointed it out... Thankfully, she’d escaped his room quickly. If she had been one second slower, based on the anger radiating off him, she would have lost her life in there...

Song Qingchun patted her chest as she walked into the dining room. She sat down and was ready to begin dinner when she noticed her arm that held the chopsticks was covered with blood.

Song Qingchun quickly tossed the chopsticks away and started inspecting her body. She looked around and confirmed that there were no injuries on her.

Therefore, the blood on her arm...

Song Qingchun subconsciously raised her head to look at the ceiling... Only Su Zhinian had touched her arm... So, he was the one who was injured?

Song Qingchun thought back to the palm print on his face. Even though the room was dim and she hadn’t particularly been paying attention back then, she could still tell his face was heavily bruised. What happened to him today?

Song Qingchun sat in deep contemplation in her seat before shaking her head forcefully as if to shake the thought out of her mind. No matter what happened to him, it had nothing to do with her. She was not that close to him that she needed to worry about him! Yes, no need to!

Song Qingchun nodded as she stood up to walk into the bathroom. She washed the blood off her arm and returned to dining room. She picked up her chopsticks and resumed eating.

After two bites of food, Song Qingchun stopped.

In any case, they could be considered acquaintances. Even though she did resent him, he appeared to be seriously injured, and leaving him to suffer did seem pretty immoral...

She bit on the ends of the chopsticks as she ruminated. Then, her eyes flew up to the ceiling before lowering her head to focus on her dinner. After a few more bites, she looked up at the ceiling again. After multiple times of this repetition, Song Qingchun finally put down her chopsticks and walked to the kitchen.

She was in a contractual relationship with him; she was to take care of his living arrangements for a hundred days, and contractually speaking, she should take care of him when he was injured.

Song Qingchun thought about it as she tossed two eggs into the pan to boil. Song Qingchun stood in front of the stove for about half a minute before turning to walk out of the kitchen and up to her bedroom to retrieve a jacket. She shrugged it on and walked out of the bungalow.

When she returned, the eggs were already cooked. She hauled them out and dropped them in a cold bath to sit for several minutes before she fetched them out with her fingers. Satisfied with the temperature, she peeled the shell and placed the eggs on a small plate before heading upstairs.

...

Perhaps it was because he had not had such close physical contact with a woman for such a long time, the usually monastic Su Zhinian had a hard time calming down the flames of desire in his body even a long time after Song Qingchun had left.

Finally, he went to stand on the open balcony, hoping that the wintry winds would chill his body. The sub-zero temperature slowly diminished his internal heat.

He looked at the snow that had gathered on the rooftop as the sounds of Song Qingchun’s various operations drifted into his ears. The sound of the electronic stove being turned on, the sound of boiling water, her footsteps as she padded upstairs and downstairs, and later, her footsteps as she ran out of the bungalow... By then, his heart had slowly returned to normal.

She returned, jogging, about ten minutes after she’d left the house.