Chapter 136: Plato

The moonlight was still, and the lamp in the room cast a dim, hazy glow.

Song Qingyou raised a foot and pressed it against Fu Wenzhou’s abdomen, stopping his urge to press closer.

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes burned as if a fire were raging within him. He was restless and agitated, whispering almost pleadingly, "Sister, help me..."

Song Qingyou hooked her fingers into his collar, trailing her fingertips from his lips down to his throat, where she pressed and kneaded as if by accident. "Fu Wenzhou, are you going to give me Fu Nan or not?"

"Why must it be him?" Fu Wenzhou’s breath grew ragged. He said with difficulty, "Can't I do it?"

Song Qingyou drew out the end of her sentence, her tone carrying a hint of ambiguity. "If you don't agree, that's fine too. I'll just find someone else."

Fu Wenzhou was incredibly agitated. He grabbed Song Qingyou’s ankle and pulled her toward him. Resisting his instincts, he did some frantic mental math, weighed the pros and cons, and finally compromised. "Then let it be Fu Bei."

Fu Bei had a sullen personality and wasn't as talkative as Fu Nan; he wouldn't speak unless necessary. Comparing the two, Fu Wenzhou preferred to have Fu Bei by Song Qingyou’s side.

The hot air Fu Wenzhou exhaled almost condensed into white mist. Even while engaged in such a base act, his eyes remained searing and devout.

He murmured in a low, husky, and aggrieved voice, "Sister, please..."

A shiver of numbness climbed up Song Qingyou’s spine. After a long moment, she sighed, "You are not allowed to bite my neck. I have to go to work tomorrow."

The moment the words left her lips, she was pounced upon by the burning man, who could no longer contain his impatience.

Their bodies pressed together, faces close. Fu Wenzhou let out a low curse, unable to restrain himself any longer. He lowered his head, captured her lips, and swallowed her breath...

Song Qingyou had seen many sides of Fu Wenzhou, but she still felt he was most attractive in the aftermath. The raw sexual tension emanating from his very bones and the languor that followed his satisfaction were enough to make one involuntarily addicted.

Of course, if her body weren't on the verge of falling apart and if she still had a shred of strength left, she would have enjoyed watching him for a few more minutes.

Song Qingyou turned her head, burying her face in the pillow. She was almost unable to move and had no desire to look at the man standing by the bed.

Fu Wenzhou brought over some medicine, his brow slightly furrowed and his eyes cast low. "Sister, get up and take your medicine."

Song Qingyou’s ears burned. She muttered, "I won't."

The voice muffled by the pillow sounded a bit irritable.

Fu Wenzhou held the medicine in one hand and used the other to force her to turn over. His strength was great; even if Song Qingyou didn't cooperate, he could flip her over with one hand.

Song Qingyou was startled by his movement. Her fingertips gripped the sheets as she moved, but the soreness radiating through her body left her with no strength to struggle, so she simply let him be.

In truth, Fu Wenzhou’s movements were very gentle and patient. It was just that he was facing a fragile Song Qingyou; the image of her coughing up blood during their final moments together haunted his mind.

Even now, Fu Wenzhou’s expression remained grim.

Song Qingyou knew he was feeling distressed. Despite not having fully vented his desires, he had forcibly pulled away from her body and rushed out of bed in a panic to fetch her medicine.

She took the medicine, swallowed it down, looked at him, and said softly, "It’s not your fault. It’s just that my body is frail."

Fu Wenzhou fell silent for a moment, his eyes earnest and solemn. "We won't do it anymore."

Song Qingyou was stunned, not immediately grasping his meaning. "What?"

Fu Wenzhou’s voice was deep, yet his tone didn't sound like he was joking. "We won't do it anymore. Not until your body is healthy."

He could endure his desires, but he could not endure his beloved coughing up blood beneath him.

He had constantly overlooked the fact that Youyou had a poor constitution. While they had always been harmonious in this regard, and he had been careful and slow, he still couldn't prevent her from being hurt.

Song Qingyou couldn't help but freeze. Fu Wenzhou had only just begun to experience these pleasures, and at his young, vigorous age, he should have been driven by desire—something evident from how he would lose control at her slightest touch.

Yet, he was saying he wouldn't do it anymore.

Just because she had coughed up blood.

Song Qingyou’s eyelashes flickered as she looked up at him. "I told you, it has nothing to do with you. I used to cough up blood before, too."

Fu Wenzhou walked over, hugged her tightly, and whispered, "Youyou, I only want you to be safe. Even if we have to be platonic for the rest of our lives, I can accept that."

Song Qingyou felt a stir in her heart. "Can you really endure it?"

Fu Wenzhou asked, "You don't believe me?"

"It's not that..."

"I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow and get little Fu Wenzhou cut off."

"..."

Song Qingyou went rigid, looking up at him in disbelief. Judging by his tone, he didn't sound like he was joking at all, and his expression was entirely serious.

Her eyelids twitched. "Are you insane?!"

"I'm not insane." Fu Wenzhou frowned, stubborn. "I said, I would do anything for you."

Song Qingyou pursed her lips. She took a deep breath and slapped him on the head. "Get off."

Fu Wenzhou was suddenly struck and felt a bit aggrieved. He opened his mouth, not daring to ask why, and stood up obediently. "What's wrong?"

What's wrong?

He still had the nerve to ask her what was wrong.

Song Qingyou was speechless. She glared at him irritably. "If you want to be a saint so badly, go do it yourself. I have no interest in being platonic."

Fu Wenzhou: "..."

He rubbed his nose. "No, but your body isn't healthy."

Song Qingyou closed her eyes. "I’ll say it again: the coughing up blood has nothing to do with this."

"But..."

"If you can't do it, it's not like I can't find someone else."

"..."

Fu Wenzhou’s expression darkened instantly, his gaze fierce and vicious. "How can you say that? I was even willing to cut off little Wenzhou for you, and you actually want to find another man? Who is this other man? Is he better at it than me? Does he last longer than me? Does he know how to serve you like I do? Does he..."

"No." Song Qingyou’s voice was calm and flat. "No one makes me feel as good as you do."

"Huh?" Fu Wenzhou’s expression turned slightly foolish.

Song Qingyou sighed and decided to just give up. "Actually, I think it feels quite good. I enjoy it..."

Fu Wenzhou’s mouth gradually fell open. It took him a long time to speak. "That’s because I’m very large."

Song Qingyou: "...................."

She suddenly reached out, grabbed her phone, and searched on a shopping app:

*Is there any medicine that can poison someone into muteness?*

She truly couldn't take another second of this.

Fu Wenzhou, entirely unaware that his voice was about to be lost forever, turned to wash the cup. Then, he clung to Song Qingyou again, wrapping her in his arms from behind and whispering in a deep voice, "Even though you want it, Sister, we still have to look after your health. How about once a year?"

"..."

"Six months?"

"..."

"Three months. That's the limit!" Fu Wenzhou said, steeling his heart.

"..." Please, I beg you, stop talking.