Chapter 17 My wife hit me.

It was a merciless kick.

With a thud, He Cong was kicked to the ground.

He groaned, covered his chest and looked at her, "Wife..."

Shang Youqing's face became cold, as if he was taming some large beast. He pulled the back of his neck and dragged him into the inner room, then locked the door from the outside. Soon

, the muffled sound of He Cong banging against the door and the suppressed muffled call of "Wife, don't go. Don't go."

Shang Youqing did not respond.

She waited until the inner room was completely quiet, guessing that He Cong had returned to bed after his sleepwalking. She walked to the window and door, opened the window slightly and took a look outside. The rain still did not stop.

Shang Youqing was angry about He Cong's unconscious and disturbing sleepwalking behavior, but judging from the temperature of He Cong's body when he came close to her, she could tell that He Cong's temperature had increased.

She also knew that if the fever continued to be so high, she would definitely be in trouble, not to mention that the rain was not certain when it would stop.

Shang Youqing glanced back at the tightly closed inner room, and finally opened the door of the outer room. Braving the rainy night, she took an umbrella and a flashlight and went out of the yard.

Shang Youqing did not go too far, and planned to find some fever-reducing herbs near the woods and then go back.

She searched in the rain for about half an hour, and then returned to the old lady's yard with a bundle of herbs. As soon as she entered the yard, Shang Youqing almost immediately noticed something was wrong.

The window on the inner room side was open, and it was creaking in the wind and rain.

Shang Youqing unlocked the door of the inner room, walked in and saw that the room was empty, and there was no sign of He Cong.

The old woman had apparently heard the noise quickly and was about to come from the other side of the yard when Shang Youqing called out, "It's okay, grandma, the window was accidentally blown open."

Not wanting to frighten the old woman so late at night, Shang Youqing closed the window and, figuring the person wasn't far away, waited for the old woman to return to her room and sleep, then he headed out, umbrella in hand.

Due to the muddy, rainy night, Shang Youqing searched for a while near the stream and soon found He Cong's footprints. Using her flashlight, she followed the tracks.

Soon, perhaps by chance, Shang Youqing spotted He Cong on the hillside where she had recently pulled herbs.

He Cong hadn't sleepwalked into the deep woods yet. He was mechanically pacing back and forth under a tree on the hillside, soaking wet but oblivious to the cold, showing no intention of leaving.

Shang Youqing approached him, shining her flashlight on him.

As if he had smelled something, He Cong finally raised his head from his sleepy state. His face was pale, and his moist, heavy eyes fixed on her. For a second, he suddenly turned his head away indifferently, his thin lips tightly pursed, as if he was angry with her.

"..."

After such a night of tossing and turning, Shang Youqing really didn't have time to argue with him anymore. She could only patiently coax him for the time being: "Can you go back first?"

He Cong's voice was cold and clear. "My wife hit me."

He turned his back to Shang Youqing and refused to turn around, continuing to complain, "My wife doesn't want me."

"..."

What nonsense.

Shang Youqing didn't want to waste time talking to him. She glared at him and asked, "Are you leaving or not?"

Otherwise, He Cong's men would come up the mountain and find He Cong dead in the deep forest in the middle of the night. She would become a suspect in his murder.

He Cong's tall body stood stubbornly under the tree, his face stern and motionless.

He looked as if he would get himself drenched to death here in the rain if she didn't coax him.

... Half a minute later, Shang Youqing frowned, and had to reach out her hand as if ready to die.

At the same time, she silently said in her heart that this guy must be sleepwalking and would think she was his deceased wife, and he would not remember her when he woke up. In order to prevent her from taking the responsibility of a human life for no reason, she had better be patient for a while and coax the person back first.

He Cong slowly lowered his head, and his wet eyes fell on the white and slender hand that Shang Youqing stretched out. After a long time, the corners of his mouth finally lifted slightly. He held her hand with satisfaction and followed her back obediently.

Shang Youqing endured it all the way with a cold face, letting that hand hold her tightly. As soon as she returned to the old lady's yard, she shook off his hand and walked into the inner room.

He Cong followed her step by step, following silently.

Shang Youqing picked up the set of clean old clothes that the old lady had brought to him and threw them to him to change. He Cong took them, looked at the clothes in his hand, then looked at his wet clothes, and raised his head hesitantly, "Wife, help me take them off."

Shang Youqing's answer was to lock him in the inner room again, and this time he blocked the window from the outside, warning the people in the room: "Don't come out."

Then he went into the kitchen to boil the medicine, thinking irritably while boiling it.

How could someone sleepwalk into the woods?

As the head of the first family in Bindao, suffering from such severe sleepwalking symptoms, has he never seen a doctor?

Shang Youqing boiled the antipyretic herbs, unlocked the door and brought it in.

He Cong had changed his clothes and was sitting quietly by the bed. His face was pale and bloodless, his eyes were blurred with fever, but he was still sitting there waiting for people.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, he slowly raised his eyes, and his lips touched hers with cold ones: "Wife, it's cold..."

Nonsense, he ran into the deep mountains and forests in the middle of the night to get caught in the rain, it's lucky that he didn't freeze to death.

Shang Youqing pushed the bowl of medicine of suitable temperature over to him in

a bad mood, "Drink the medicine." He Cong took it slowly, and drank it obediently without asking what the medicine was. He raised his head again, and looked at her with red eyes, "Still, it's cold..." Shang Youqing took the bowl of medicine and was about to leave. The next second, He Cong's hot big hands reached out and circled her waist

. He buried his head in her lower abdomen, his voice hoarse and with a hint of suppressed grievance, "Wife, let me hold you." Shang Youqing stood by the bed, his brows cold, and his hands hanging by his side clenched and unclenched repeatedly, trying his best to suppress the urge to kick her again.

Maybe he was worried that after kicking the man, he would be accused of hitting someone and run out in the rain again, or maybe he was worried that he would disturb the old lady again and wake her up. In any case, Shang Youqing put the medicine bowl on the wooden cabinet with a sullen face and did not leave again.

The next morning.

The rain outside seemed to have finally stopped, and a ray of sunlight came in from the wooden window.

The roar of an approaching helicopter came from far above the mountains and forests, waking people up.

He Cong opened his sleepy eyes, vaguely aware of something, and his gaze slowly moved downwards.

His hand was clasping a few fingers that did not belong to him. The fingers were clean, slender, white, and very soft, and he held them tightly between his fingers.

His sight moved to the right along the thin hand, and when he saw clearly that the person sleeping on the edge of the bed was Shang Youqing, He Cong's eyes suddenly turned cold. He pulled back his hand and sat up, his face as cold as frost: "Why are you sleeping here?"