Chapter 025: The Allure Beneath the Delicate Strap

When they reached the doorway, Li Huan took out his keys and opened the door. Sun Feifei was already drenched in sweat and, gritting her teeth, mustered her remaining strength to help Li Huan inside. As they reached the sofa, her legs gave out, and the two of them tumbled together onto its cushions.

Both cried out in surprise—Sun Feifei because Li Huan landed atop her, his elbow pressing painfully against her chest, and Li Huan because the jolt aggravated his wound, sending cold sweat streaming down his face and nearly making him pass out from the pain.

The commotion must have been loud, for the door to Su Dieyi’s room swung open. A striking, delicate face peeked out, casting a glance toward the living room. She saw Li Huan sprawled atop a woman and froze in astonishment. The echo of their cries still lingered in her mind, and suddenly, as if connecting the dots, Su Dieyi’s cheeks flushed crimson. With a bang, she slammed her door shut.

Stunned, Sun Feifei wriggled out from under Li Huan and helped him lie down properly. Only then did she look toward Su Dieyi’s room with a frown. “Is there someone else living here?”

“Yes, a college friend. Don’t worry about it,” Li Huan replied, too consumed by his pain to care about Su Dieyi. He felt as though he were about to die, his head swimming; even the room seemed to blur and split before his eyes.

But even as he said, “It’s fine,” Su Dieyi’s door flew open again. A girl in a camisole nightdress stormed out, brimming with indignation. Seeing that Li Huan and Sun Feifei had separated, she hesitated for a moment, then strode to the sofa and jabbed a finger at Li Huan’s nose. “You lecher—shameless! Have you no conscience at all? We—we’re roommates, you know! Did you ever consider my feelings, you—ah…”

Su Dieyi was just hitting her stride, venting all her grievances, when her gaze inadvertently fell upon Li Huan’s chest. She froze in place, eyes fixed on the large, glaring patch of blood soaking through his clothes, the metallic tang of blood beginning to permeate the air.

“Keep your voice down!” Li Huan hastily begged. Her voice was so loud it nearly made him sit bolt upright in alarm.

“What happened to you? Why are you bleeding so much?” Su Dieyi’s face turned grave, the sight of so much blood rattling her composure. She reached out, intent on pulling aside the fabric covering his chest.

“What are you doing?” Li Huan’s heart leapt—was she planning to take revenge on him? But the thought passed quickly; he knew that no matter how angry she was, Su Dieyi would never pour salt into his wounds. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have bothered to switch his room door earlier.

She was a good person—and, to be honest, far too beautiful for her own good.

“What am I doing? I’m looking at your wound so I can dress it. Or would you rather it got infected?” Su Dieyi’s voice lost its fear, replaced by a measured calm. She glanced over at the flustered Sun Feifei, who clutched a first aid kit in her hands. Taking it, Su Dieyi said, “Can you help? Please boil some hot water.”

Sun Feifei blinked, then sprang into action. She dashed into the bathroom, realized her mistake, and hurried out again, cheeks red with embarrassment. Su Dieyi’s tone was chilly, but this was no time for petty grievances. She pointed Sun Feifei toward the kitchen, issued a few more instructions, and then darted back into her room to fetch additional supplies.

One had to admit, when Su Dieyi got serious, she exuded a gravity that belied her delicate appearance. The gentle, frail girl of moments ago now radiated a stern, dignified air—especially with her brows slightly knit, a look so endearing that Li Huan found himself wanting to smooth away the furrow with his hand.

She carefully slipped his jacket aside, then took scissors and snipped open the shirt around the wound, finally revealing the extent of the injury. Even with her mind prepared, Su Dieyi couldn’t stop herself from gasping at the sight. Her bright eyes widened in disbelief.

The wound extended along the right side of his chest, nearly ten centimeters long, with a strip of flesh peeled back, the area slick with blood. The sight was enough to make anyone’s hair stand on end, and Su Dieyi’s hands trembled as she wondered how she would manage to clean it.

Soon, Sun Feifei returned with a kettle of boiling water. One glance at the wound and she nearly fainted. Su Dieyi, though visibly shaken, kept more composure. She fetched a ball of cotton from the first aid kit, soaked it in hot water, and gently began to clean the blood from Li Huan’s injury. The process took over ten minutes, using up a large pile of cotton and filling the trash can halfway.

Once the wound was clean, it looked even more ghastly—pale flesh laid bare, with fresh blood still oozing from within. Su Dieyi bit her lip, leaving a row of teeth marks on her soft lips, then knelt by the sofa, needle and thread in hand, and began to stitch the wound closed.

The sensation of needle piercing flesh was excruciating even to imagine, and with incomplete medical supplies—no anesthetic or painkillers—every stitch sent Li Huan gasping through clenched teeth. Though Su Dieyi appeared calm, her hands still trembled, and she missed her mark several times, making Li Huan nearly jump from the pain.

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital with injuries this bad?” Su Dieyi frowned, trying to distract him with conversation, lest he pass out from the agony.

“I can’t go. If I’m found, it’s over!” Li Huan was already hovering on the brink of unconsciousness. Of course he’d rather be at a hospital, but Big Baldy was the boss of the Lion’s Gate Hall, with a wide network of contacts. Going to a hospital would be like walking into a trap—just as he’d been cornered by the chubby guy last time.

Fortunately, though the wound looked terrifying, it hadn’t damaged muscle or arteries. He could just about manage on his own. What surprised him most was that Su Dieyi knew a fair bit of first aid; though timid, her hands were steady enough.

Su Dieyi glanced at him, her face full of doubt. Hurt and unable to go to a hospital, afraid of being found out? With Sun Feifei in the background, the pieces clicked into place. Bringing a beautiful woman home in the dead of night, wounded—could he have been fighting over a prostitute and gotten beaten? So he really was a scoundrel, after all!

The thought irked her, and her hand grew heavier, causing Li Huan to yelp, “Please, take it easy! What did I ever do to you?”

“You pervert…” Su Dieyi couldn’t be bothered to argue. Nor could she just leave him, so she fell silent, concentrating on her stitches so she wouldn’t jab the needle in anger.

Li Huan was bewildered by her actions. He glanced at Sun Feifei, only to see she had slumped by the sofa, already fast asleep. She muttered incoherently, as if in the throes of a nightmare, her body twitching now and then—a sign that the night’s events still haunted her, even in sleep.

As Li Huan endured the pain of the needle, he found himself idly watching Su Dieyi’s face, gradually growing entranced. She truly was unforgettable—youthful, vibrant, with a rare and delicate charm. A genuine beauty, save for her stubborn, slightly old-fashioned temperament.

Old-fashioned?

Suddenly, something struck him. He glanced at Su Dieyi, absorbed in stitching his wound, a mischievous grin flickering across his lips. His gaze dropped, and he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

Su Dieyi wore a conservative camisole nightgown, its neckline modest and most of her chest concealed. Yet, being sleepwear, it was loose, and as she knelt by the sofa, leaning forward, the neckline gaped just enough to reveal the snowy expanse beneath.

One glance was enough to unsettle him. Perhaps because she was preparing for bed, she wore nothing beneath the nightgown, not even a bra. The soft mounds of her breasts, though not large, were perfectly shaped, the rosy tips like ripe cherries, inviting and irresistible.

As she worked, those delicate curves pressed and shifted, creating tantalizing shadows and lines. Though not as voluptuous as Piggy’s, her curves were perfectly proportioned—just the right size to fill a hand.

Desire clouded his senses. Even as the needle bit into his flesh, Li Huan seemed to forget the pain, his eyes drifting repeatedly to Su Dieyi’s chest. He admired the flawless, tempting curves, entirely unaware that his own body was reacting beneath the blanket.

“All done… whew!” Su Dieyi finally spoke, a smile of satisfaction breaking across her face as she surveyed the neatly stitched wound. She wiped the sweat from her brow, but her arm brushed against something unexpected. She turned, and in an instant her face blazed crimson. She pinched Li Huan’s thigh hard, then stormed off to her room, fuming.

“Aaah!” Li Huan howled, suddenly realizing his predicament. Watching Su Dieyi flee, he managed a wry smile, turning his head and calling, “Wait, don’t go! The wound still needs to be dressed!”

But the only answer was the thunderous slam of her door.

Li Huan glanced at Sun Feifei. She merely lifted her head, bleary-eyed, muttered, “Still alive,” and promptly collapsed back to sleep, snoring softly.