Chapter Fifty-Seven

"Get off. Don’t dirty my bed."

These cold, almost cruel words pierced Ying Yue’s ears. Her body trembled; her face turned ashen, then transparent, as if she might vanish at any moment. Yet Arthur, his back to her, saw none of it. His words were like sharp ice picks, stabbing deep into Ying Yue’s heart, leaving a gaping wound that bled endlessly. Her chest felt cold, but no traces remained—only the indelible scar.

Once lively, Ying Yue’s violet eyes now lost all vitality. Like a lifeless puppet, she slowly stepped down from the bed, her frail figure trembling with every movement. Her hands cradled her abdomen as she staggered toward the door. Her once glossy black hair had dulled, hanging quietly beside her cheeks, hiding her expression from view.

Arthur turned and saw Ying Yue’s weak silhouette. Pain twisted his heart, filling his eyes with anguish and tenderness. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, struggling to restrain himself from acting on impulse. Inside his mind, two voices battled: one urging him to go, to rush forward and pull her into his arms; the other insisting he hold back, reminding him that since he had resolved to make her hate him, to give up on him, he must not move.

Ying Yue walked on, her head growing heavier, her gaze unfocused, the path ahead increasingly obscured. It felt as if she were sinking into darkness, unable to see anything, her steps uncertain, unable to find solid ground. She struggled, but no matter how she fought, it was futile. In the end, she was swallowed by darkness, and just before losing consciousness, she sensed a faint warmth.

Arthur watched as Ying Yue’s steps grew lighter, her body weaker, his eyes reddening. At last, as she fainted, he caught her gently, holding her tightly in his arms. He shouted toward the door, "Someone, hurry! Call a doctor!" All the while, he carried Ying Yue back to the bed, holding her close, refusing to let go, his cheek brushing incessantly against her cool, delicate face.

The butler, upon hearing Arthur’s call, immediately phoned the doctor and then stood quietly outside Arthur’s door, as silent as if he weren’t there.

Soon, respectful knocks echoed; the butler’s voice followed, "Your Highness, the doctor has arrived."

"Come in," came Arthur’s cold, emotionless reply. The butler nodded to the doctor and opened the door.

Upon hearing the butler, Arthur laid Ying Yue down, tucked the quilt around her, and walked to the window, his demeanor calm and unreadable.

The doctor, a professional not prone to unnecessary words, examined Ying Yue thoroughly. Then he addressed Arthur, "Your Highness, the young lady is not in serious danger. She is naturally frail, and now that her period has arrived, her body cannot bear the strain and she fainted. With some rest and blood tonics, she will recover."

Arthur turned, staring at the girl on the bed, who looked as fragile as a broken porcelain doll. A flash of pain crossed his gaze. His voice was icy as he replied, "Very well. You may go."

The doctor simply nodded and withdrew respectfully.

The butler glanced at Ying Yue, then at Arthur. His lips moved as if to speak, but he said nothing, lowered his head, and quietly left, closing the door behind him.

In the silent room, only the soft sound of their breathing remained.

Arthur stood by the bed, saying nothing, just quietly watching. Time passed in silence. Then a faint moan broke the stillness. Arthur’s body trembled instantly, his eyes bright with joy as he watched her gradually open her eyes. But as Ying Yue woke, Arthur’s expression shifted from joy to cold indifference. When she was fully conscious, the first thing she saw was Arthur’s ruthless gaze, devoid of emotion, as he asked coldly, "Awake?"

—Extra—

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