Quick Transmigration: Only You Are the Desire of My Heart

Xi Hanzhou lowered her eyes and put the soft white loungewear back on.

The fabric rubbed against the skin on his back, where the ointment had just been applied, causing a slight tingling sensation. The bitter smell of the ointment mixed with the lingering warmth from her fingertips, like an invisible brand, making his heart tighten.

Her voice still echoed in my ears.

"Don't get in my way."

Harsh and indifferent, like shooing away a nasty fly.

But the careful movements she made when she bent down to apply the medicine to his neck, and the warm breath she sprayed on the back of his neck, were real.

Xi Hanzhou buttoned the last button, his fingertips feeling a little cold.

He stood up, but didn't leave immediately. The living room was quiet; it was just the two of them. He stood there like a silent statue, while she remained motionless, slumped in the sofa.

The two were a few steps apart, but the air seemed to freeze, so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

The eerie calm made both of them somewhat uneasy.

Song Qingyin's lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't know how to start.

In contrast, Xi Han seemed more composed. His gaze fell on her. She was barefoot, her fair ankles faintly visible beneath her black silk nightgown, and a few strands of her fiery red hair fell onto the polished floor. She appeared to be looking at the light screen, but her eyes were unfocused, clearly lost in thought.

Did she also sense the uncomfortable atmosphere?

[Host, you're not saying anything, and neither is he. Are you two trying to see who can hold their breath longer?] Qingyu's voice rang in Song Qingyin's mind, tinged with a hint of amusement. [But seriously, you were applying medicine and touching his old scars earlier, and now you're just leaving him hanging here. The atmosphere... tsk tsk, absolutely hilarious.]

Song Qingyin mentally replied irritably, "Shut up."

She was indeed very irritable.

This was the first time she had seen his wounds so clearly and directly; new and old scars layered upon each other, one of which was near his heart, almost piercing his chest by a hair's breadth. One could imagine how perilous his situation must have been.

When they were together, she did lay hands on him, but she always knew her limits. Physical pain was inevitable, but never fatal.

But now, he's like a piece of broken porcelain that's been pieced back together; there's hardly a single intact part of him. How badly he must have suffered these past few years.

A strange, subtle throbbing pain shot through her heart, and Song Qingyin had to admit that she felt a pang of heartache.

But ironically, she was used to being bossy in front of Xi Hanzhou, and her pride prevented her from showing even the slightest weakness in his presence. Lowering her stance would be like admitting how much she cared about him, which made her extremely uncomfortable.

Finally, Song Qingyin cleared her throat, trying to break the unpleasant silence.

"I had a medical pod sent over."

Her voice was a little dry, and her gaze remained stubbornly fixed on the light screen, as if she were talking about something trivial.

“In your bedroom.”

Xi Hanzhou paused almost imperceptibly.

Medical pod?

This isn't just a simple repair fluid or bio-gel; it's a military-grade, expensive device capable of deeply repairing damage to the mind and body. On the black market, even the most basic medical pod is worth a fortune, let alone the kind of model Song Qingyin would have prepared.

That is an absolutely priceless treasure.

Therefore, she treated him differently in the end.

The thought seemed absurd to him, yet his heart skipped a beat uncontrollably. He looked at her profile; in the morning light, her skin was almost translucent, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow. She looked languid and nonchalant, as if those words hadn't come from her own mouth.

Xi Hanzhou's Adam's apple bobbed, but he remained silent.

He didn't know what to say.

Say thank you? Between them, those two words are more like an irony.

When he questions her about why, she only shuts him up with things like, "It'll be a hassle if you break it."

Song Qingyin waited a few seconds, but received no response from him, which only increased her frustration.

She finally turned her head, her beautiful peach blossom eyes looking straight at him, her gaze filled with a hint of anger that her patience had been broken.

"What are you still doing standing here?" she frowned. "Waiting for me to invite you in?"

Xi Hanzhou met her gaze, and a ripple finally appeared in those unfathomable eyes. He did not obediently retreat as usual, nor did he utter a word of rebuttal.

He simply called her name softly.

"Song Qingyin".

Three words, without any honorifics or emotions, simply stating a fact.

I'm here, and I'm watching you.

This address seemed to pierce through the hard shell that Song Qingyin had built. Her heart tightened, and the nameless fire burned even more fiercely.

"What, do you want me to help you up?" she said, her voice slightly raised, carrying her usual sarcastic tone.

A very faint, almost imperceptible curve appeared at the corner of Xi Hanzhou's lips.

"I wouldn't dare trouble you," he said, his voice still hoarse but with a peculiar quality. "The medicine is very good."

He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on her slender fingertips, where the bitter scent of the ointment seemed to still linger.

"Did you mix this yourself?"

This question, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, instantly shattered Song Qingyin's feigned calm.

Yes.

That was her secret medicine, the formula and method of which were never revealed to outsiders. She spent many nights painstakingly adjusting it in the pharmacy, just to suppress the side effects caused by her excessively strong mental power to the greatest extent possible.

To admit it would be tantamount to admitting that she had never changed her habits over the years, and also to admitting that she had used this unique medicine on him.

This is a special kind of thing that cannot be described in words.

Song Qingyin's fingertips twitched slightly, and her eyes flickered.

"My things are naturally the best." She downplayed the issue, her tone filled with the arrogance of someone in a superior position.

Xi Hanzhou looked at her quietly, noticing the evasiveness in her eyes and the harshness in her words.

After a long while, he nodded.

"understood."

He got it.

He understood that she was saying one thing but meaning another, that she was all bark and no bite, and that she was trying her best to hide the little bit of care she actually had.

This is enough.

He didn't linger, turned around, and walked towards the stairs.

His back was straight, and his steps were unhurried, like a general who had calmly retreated after winning a battle.

Watching his departing figure, Song Qingyin's irritation did not dissipate; instead, it festered in her chest, making her feel suffocated.

She won the verbal battle, but felt utterly defeated.

Just as Xi Hanzhou's hand touched the stair railing and she was about to step onto the first step, she heard her slightly hurried voice from behind.

"Take good care of yourself."

The voice was low, carrying a suppressed awkwardness and reluctance, as if a few words were squeezed out from between teeth.

Xi Hanzhou stopped in his tracks.

He didn't turn around, but just stood there quietly, the only sound in the living room being his shallow breathing.

Those four words, like warm feathers, gently brushed across his long-frozen heart, creating ripples that spread out in circles.

It wasn't an order, nor was it mockery; it was a... word of advice.

It was Song Qingyin's clumsy, awkward, yet incredibly genuine advice.

He had his back to her, and no one could see his expression at that moment. Only he knew how wildly his heart, which had been dormant for too long, was beating, and how hot blood was rushing to his limbs, bringing a slight shiver.

He slowly clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it.

Then, he took a step and continued walking uphill without looking back or saying another word.

Only after Xi Hanzhou's figure disappeared around the corner of the stairs did Song Qingyin feel as if all her strength had been drained away. She suddenly fell backward and sank into the soft sofa.

She raised her hand to cover her eyes and let out a long breath.

Damn.

She lost control.

"[Oh my, my host, your final words of advice were absolutely brilliant!]" Qingyu's gloating voice rang out precisely on time. "[Textbook-level tsundere, domineering yet awkward concern—Xi Hanzhou's favorability rating just 'poofed' and has probably already soared to the moon!]"

"Shut up!" Song Qingyin spat out the two words through gritted teeth. "I just don't want him to die too quickly; my mecha core is still undecided!"

"Yes, yes, it's all for the mecha core." Qingyu's tone was full of teasing. "It's definitely not because I saw his body covered in nearly worn-out parts and felt sorry for him."

Frustrated, Song Qingyin lowered her hand, grabbed a cushion, and slammed it hard against the empty space opposite her.

The cushion landed on the carpet with a dull thud.