She stared at the man on the bed, feverish and delirious, and warned in a guarded whisper, "You’d better not wake up, or I’ll kill you to silence you!"
The medicine she had prepared contained an ingredient with a hypnotic effect; he shouldn’t be able to wake up.
Si Mingjing unabashedly took the man’s right hand from under the blanket. She then leaned down, touching his palm with her long, slanting, crystal-clear Coral Horns.
As if sensing a warmth akin to a heat pack, Mo Yinhe’s hand closed subconsciously.
Warmth flowed continuously from his palm, seeping into his system. It felt like a strong current of warm air combating the cold streams rampaging through his body...
The flame-like gold within Si Mingjing’s pupils burned brighter, and the stream of warmth flowing into Mo Yinhe’s body grew ever stronger.
She dared to use such an aggressive treatment method on Mo Yinhe because she could transfer her body heat to him.
The warmth of a dragon could dispel all cold.
The constant stream of warmth chased the chill from Mo Yinhe’s body. Yet, he felt it wasn’t enough. Subconsciously, his long arm wrapped around Si Mingjing’s back, pulling her entirely against him.
Caught off guard, Si Mingjing’s face was pressed into Mo Yinhe’s embrace.
Si Mingjing hadn’t expected Mo Yinhe to push his luck. She tried to pry his confining arms apart to free her head, but even in his groggy state, he was stronger and faster.
Si Mingjing’s vision went pitch black.
As she struggled, the Coral Horns on her forehead rubbed back and forth against the hollow of his neck.
Mo Yinhe’s hoarse voice sounded above Si Mingjing’s head, his palm squeezing her Dragon Horns as if to soothe her.
"Who’s your baby? Let go!" Si Mingjing fumed.
If it weren’t for needing to intercept Old Master Song, she wouldn’t have landed herself in such a predicament.
With no other choice, Si Mingjing channeled all her frustration into heat, transmitting it through her Dragon Horns to his palm, completing the heat transfer as quickly as possible.
About five minutes later, the task was complete.
Unable to break free, Si Mingjing, infuriated, opened her mouth and bit down hard on the man’s shoulder.
Seizing the moment of his pained distraction, Si Mingjing quickly wrenched herself free from his powerful restraint and, without a word, turned to flee.
But she had taken only one step when the man firmly caught her wrist.
With one pull of his long arm, Si Mingjing fell into his embrace. Though not fully conscious, the man’s sense of smell had become surprisingly acute; he detected the scent of his baby.
Mo Yinhe struggled to open his unfocused eyes. He could barely make out an overlapping silhouette, but even in his dazed state, he was certain the scent was deeply familiar.
His voice was low and hoarse, almost pleading.
This man has mistaken me for Xiaobai’s mother, likely because Xiaobai’s mother and I are of the same kind.
Being widowed must be tough, Si Mingjing thought, a flicker of sympathy in her expression. "Let go," she said softly. "I’m not your baby."
As she spoke, the sparkling Coral Horns on her forehead vanished. The brilliant golden flames in her pupils receded, and she returned to her normal self.
Mo Yinhe, however, was drenched.
He was sweating profusely, beads of water trickling down his sensuous neck. In the moonlight, the taut, fluid lines of his robust chest were faintly visible, rising and falling rhythmically with each drop.
Suddenly, Si Mingjing felt her mouth go dry.
She couldn’t stay in this bedroom for another second.