Host, the villain's corruption level has exploded!

Chapter 49: The Plan to Take Down the Commander (17)

Song Zhishu quieted down and could only stand there silently, struggling to bear the weight of this tall man. He had a faint smell of tobacco on him, not strong or pungent, but rather a reassuring scent.

Time passed quietly. Ji Rong felt her feet were a little numb, so she got up from Song Zhishu. Looking at her dazed expression, she couldn't help but laugh out loud, but accidentally aggravated her wound.

Seeing that he suddenly frowned, Song Zhishu asked worriedly, "If you don't go to see a doctor now, you might get infected."

“If I go to see a doctor, it'll be easy for news of my injury to leak out. Otherwise, what do you think this shot was for?” Ji Rong admitted that this was the first time he had answered such a stupid question. The girl in front of him scratched her head in annoyance, seemingly regretting why she had said such a foolish thing. She secretly glanced at the man leaning leisurely against the wall; even though he was injured, it couldn't hide his flamboyant yet composed aura. The man, who was a head and a half taller than Song Zhishu, was now half-closing his eyes, his restrained calmness now somewhat hazy, and there was no blood visible on his military uniform.

"...So what are you going to do? Just leave the wound to heal?" Song Zhishu couldn't help but ask.

"Just take care of it simply." He seemed quite indifferent, as if it wasn't a matter of life and death.

"Is your so-called simple treatment just applying some anti-inflammatory medicine, washing it with hot water, and finally wrapping it with gauze?" Song Zhishu asked rhetorically.

Ji Rong stopped looking up at the sky and stared straight at Song Zhishu, who was fuming. Suddenly, a warm feeling welled up inside him. He didn't show his inner turmoil, but just curled his lips in disdain: "Otherwise what? If it had gone through all that trouble you described, would I have survived until now?"

He lowered his eyes and said sarcastically, "Anyway, nobody cares. Otherwise, how did we grow up?" Although it was sarcasm, it sounded utterly desolate.

"I do care." Song Zhishu felt a pang of sympathy for him, not just because they shared the same plight, but because she herself was no less in need than him. In her haste, she took Ji Rong's hand and repeated, "I do care."

Her eyes shone like stars, sparkling with concern for him.

The soft, boneless feeling in his hand made Ji Rong's breath catch in his throat for a moment. He suddenly shook off the tender hand that he cherished and said coldly, "I don't need it."

The sudden coldness caught Song Zhishu off guard, and she saw his departing figure. As always, he was lonely and indifferent, but it seemed to carry an added sense of fleeing in panic.

She looked at her hands, the large, calloused hands that had just touched her, so comfortable to the touch, dry and warm. Her own body was naturally prone to feeling cold; perhaps those hands disliked hers for being so cold. A deep sorrow welled up within her. Song Zhishu wanted to tell anyone, but had nowhere to go. She could only leave alone. A chilling wind swept through this remote place; apart from a few drops of blood on the ground, it seemed no one would ever know that a man had once given his heart here.

Ji Rong's steps were disordered and hurried, his face was gloomy, and his mind kept replaying the scene from just now.

Why did I want to get rid of him? Why is my heart fluttering?

All of this is unknown.

He is a very controlling person, and Ji Rong becomes extremely irritable once things get out of his control.

For example, now.