Chapter 5: Yu Xiheng, courtesy name Shiyan

The voice was incredibly pleasant, with every word possessing a perfectly modulated cadence.

As if a gentle plum rain were falling against her ears, Si Fuqing's body suddenly tensed.

Her legs had not yet recovered, and they felt faintly stiff.

The man's eyes were half-open in a drowsy slumber, his pupils deep and dark, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Yet, the smile did not reach his eyes, reflecting only a patch of cool snow.

From this side angle, Si Fuqing could see his perfect chin and the smooth lines of his slender neck.

The light in the car was very dim; the man's entire face was hidden in shadows, flickering indistinctly, yet his handsome features were impossible to mask.

As white as frost atop a mountain peak, as bright as the moon drifting through the clouds.

Si Fuqing keenly sensed a certain aura being released by the man; although he calmly withdrew it, she still managed to capture it.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

This was an aura that could only be forged by someone who had been on the battlefield killing people.

But this was not something she should be overthinking right now.

Si Fuqing took a deep breath—not because she was intimidated, but because her legs were truly being uncooperative.

They deserved a beating.

She would chop them off when she got back.

"Sorry, I didn't do it on purpose." After pressing an acupoint on her leg to force sensation back into it, Si Fuqing immediately stood up, leaning against the car door. "Sir, thank you, thank you so much. If fate allows us to meet again, I will compensate you. Bye-bye!"

Sitting on a man's lap was no glorious achievement, and this was the first time Si Fuqing had encountered such a situation.

However, according to her battle-hardened Third Senior Sister, when facing such a situation, the best strategy among the thirty-six stratagems is to flee; one must absolutely not take responsibility.

Thus, she decisively ran away.

As she ran, Si Fuqing tossed out a casual remark: "The texture was quite nice."

Yu Xiheng's gaze deepened abruptly.

After finishing his phone call, Shen Xingjun turned around and happened to witness this scene, his expression changing instantly.

"Shi Yan, are your legs alright? Your legs are in a critical stage of treatment; they cannot be subjected to heavy pressure."

He looked outside, only to find that even the girl's figure had vanished, causing him to frown.

He and Yu Xiheng were childhood friends; he knew that Yu Xiheng's legs had been inconvenient since childhood, requiring him to use a wheelchair.

But this wasn't the Capital; almost no one here knew Yu Xiheng, so who would specifically target his legs?

Yu Xiheng remained motionless, gently smoothing the wrinkles on his trousers. "It's fine. It was quite light."

After a pause, his fingers lightly tapped his palm in a circular motion, still showing neither joy nor anger. "The texture was quite nice."

Shen Xingjun: "???"

The texture of what?

He was utterly bewildered, but this man had always been difficult to read, and his attitude was impossible to fathom.

Shen Xingjun could only say, "I've made an appointment for you. They require you to go in person, so you must be careful."

Yu Xiheng nodded slightly and closed his eyes again to rest, his voice calm. "Thank you for the trouble."

Shen Xingjun shook his head with a smile. "After spending so much time with you, I've actually gained some understanding of ancient idioms. If others heard you speak like that, they might find it exhausting."

His gaze fell upon the man's legs, and he let out a soft sigh.

He had met many people; he was a regular in the Capital's social circles and knew the young masters and ladies of various great families.

But in the entire Capital, Yu Xiheng was perhaps the only true noble gentleman.

He possessed a grand stability that ordinary people could not match—refined, elegant, and unattainable.

Yet, such a jade-like gentleman, as ethereal as an orchid in a deep valley, would occasionally interject a sense of ruthlessness and brutality.

Having grown up with Yu Xiheng, Shen Xingjun knew how resounding his reputation was in the Capital.

The only pity was that Yu Xiheng's legs were crippled.

He could not stand and could only travel in a wheelchair.

Correspondingly, his health was not great, and he required medicinal treatment.

For a man, this was a fatal blow.

Shen Xingjun had helped seek out many famous doctors in Great Xia and had even gone abroad, but all were helpless.

The doctors all said this was a condition brought from the womb—a congenital defect that could not be cured.

There was indeed an old practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine who prescribed a formula, but unfortunately, the herbs on the list had long since become extinct.

It was no wonder the Capital had given up on Yu Xiheng, turning instead to cultivate other heirs and exiling him to a branch family.

How could a disabled person be qualified to inherit the Yu family?

Yu Xiheng, however, seemed unbothered by this; such a small matter did not seem enough to shake him.

But Shen Xingjun was unwilling to give up. A few days ago, he had contacted a shamanic doctor in Nanzhou, Great Xia.

Although he didn't believe in such things, he figured he might as well try it as a last resort.

If even the shamanic doctor in Nanzhou had no solution, then Yu Xiheng's legs might truly be beyond saving.

Shen Xingjun frowned again. "Shi Yan, where did you go yesterday? Why do I see marks on your hand that look like they were made by fingernails?"

Although Lin City was far from the Capital, there was no guarantee that someone wouldn't follow him here.

Yu Xiheng usually traveled by wheelchair, which was very inconvenient.

Once targeted, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"I encountered a fox," Yu Xiheng said calmly. "There was a conflict."

"A fox?" Shen Xingjun was startled. "There are foxes in Lin City? What color?"

Yu Xiheng was brief: "That depends on her mood."

One second she was being ruthless toward him, and the next she was acting innocent; she was quite the shapeshifter.

Shen Xingjun was surprised. "A color-changing fox? Is there such a breed?"

He had only heard of chameleons.

"Mhm."

"That is indeed rare. Next time you see her, you must take a photo," Shen Xingjun added. "Shi Yan, our meeting with the shamanic doctor at the end of the month might not go smoothly. Do you want to transfer some people from the Capital?"

"No need." Yu Xiheng did not speak much, but his words carried weight. "Hire a new group of bodyguards."

Shen Xingjun thought about it and agreed. "Alright, that will also reduce the possibility of exposing your identity. I'll have someone handle it immediately."

***

By the time Si Fuqing emerged from the supermarket, it was already dark.

She was carrying a large bag of ingredients in her right hand and had a cutting board tucked under her arm, looking like she was about to become a butcher.

The people around her were rushing home, though a few occasionally noticed the girl and couldn't help but look back.

Nighttime was when the playboys were most active; directly opposite the supermarket was a club.

Several young socialites were surrounding a young man as they walked out. One of them shifted his gaze and captured that breathtakingly beautiful face.

It was only for a fleeting moment, but it was stunning.

"Holy crap, A-Yao, look at that girl." He nudged the arm of the young man beside him and let out a whistle. "She's gorgeous. Which family's daughter is she?"

"Maybe she's a celebrity? That level of beauty is incredible. There are probably very few people in the Capital who could compete with her, right? Why haven't I seen her before?"

The young man remained indifferent, not even lifting his head.

"It could be anyone." Another socialite couldn't help but laugh, his tone mocking. "It couldn't be that Si Fuqing who keeps following Brother Yao around, could it?"

Yin Huang: *Mutual destruction.*

Si Fuqing: *Thanks.:)*