Chapter 15: 5.2

GHML – Chapter 5.2: How Could There Be Such A Despicable Man! (2)

Kachak!

He Jiang continued to stand in the living room as Lin Lin pulled the door close behind her. Suddenly, a thought hit him and he rushed towards the guest room. Knocking anxiously on the door, he called out, “Shang Jing?”

The reason he had not heard the doorbell was due to his fatigue from an entire day of filming in the sea that left his limbs sore. Moreover, the only person who would knock on the door at this time of the day was Lin Lin. Knowing she had the key to his house, he would usually ignore it even if he heard it.

But the guest room Shang Jing was staying in was closer to the main door. Why was he not awoken by all the ringing? Could he have fainted?

To be exposed to the strong sea breeze after a car accident then visit a supermarket after, he would not be surprised if he was down with a fever.

He Jiang furrowed his eyebrows together. Without waiting for an answer, he decided to enter.

Creak… 

The door to the guest room opened with a twist of the door knob.

A wave of dismay hit He Jiang.

Is this ungrateful brat trusting me too much? 

The curtains in the room were drawn, blocking any sunlight from shining in. He Jiang turned on the lights.

Shang Jing was lying on the queen-sized bed situated in the middle of the room. His overly loose underwear and sides of his shirt had rolled upwards to reveal his milky white skin.

But the first thing that caught He Jiang’s eye was the deep cut on his calf. Judging from the color of the wound and condition of the scab, the wound had been sustained approximately five or six days ago. He could have hurt himself by accident when he was in the US.

After a night of healing, the bruises from the car accident had also risen to the surface of his joints. Shang Jing’s wrist, knees, and waist were all covered in large purple patches, like a bowl of mutilated tofu with holes burnt into them.

He Jiang’s heart skipped a beat as he pictured Shang Jing rolling on the ground after being hit by the car.

His heart softened.

He couldn’t do it, He Jiang admits.

To keep Shang Jing by his side and torture him, that was not something he had in him. He had overestimated himself.

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He Jiang approached the bed cautiously and felt the temperature on Shang Jing’s forehead and the nape of his neck with his hand. Sure that the temperature was normal, he checked the gauze on his head. Seeing that there was no new blood staining it, he relaxed.

Shang Jing’s eyes were still closed. His breathing was even and his luscious eyelashes were fanned out beautifully above his eyes. In his sleeping state, it was as though he had returned to his original obedient self from three years ago.

He Jiang looked at him and could not control his urge to poke one of the purple patches on his waist.

The skin sank in but the owner did not even flinch.

It seemed like the bruises were superficial and did not hurt much.

As though he had found a new toy, He Jiang poked every single one of Shang Jing’s bruises, regardless of how severe they looked.

“Why did you choose to torture yourself at the film set and supermarket in this state?” He Jiang looked at Shang Jing endearingly. “But since you still knew to look for me after getting injured, you’re still not too stupid.”

“Fine, I’ll… forgive you.”

As if he had heard He Jiang’s heartfelt words, Shang Jing’s eyelashes shivered as he opened his eyes a crack. He blinked at the ceiling blankly.

He Jiang retracted his finger guiltily and pinched Shang Jing’s cheeks. “Get up and make breakfast.”

Shang Jing got up in a daze. He had dreamt of himself cooking and cleaning the house on all fours all night. Till now, he could still feel the aching in his waist and back.

In his dream, he had disregarded his pride and called He Jiang ‘Hubby’. “Uwuwuwuwu… Hubby, the house is too big, I can’t finish cleaning it, let me take a break.”

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And He Jiang had merely leaned down to pinch his cheeks, threatening, “You will not get dinner if you don’t finish cleaning by today.” All the while continuing to comfortably chill at the balcony with a coffee in hand.

As the dream and reality merged together into one, Shang Jing threw himself into He Jiang’s arms, whining, “Hubby~ I don’t want to cook.”

He rubbed his head against his hard abs and jumped up in shock.

Shang Jing grabbed his head in pain.

Help! What did I just say?!

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