Chapter 57: His Intention

"Princess, it is time for you to drink some water."

Drink, drink, drink!

Which quack doctor had prescribed this treatment for her, actually telling Moji Haoyu that she needed to drink plenty of water to recover quickly? Damn it, did they take her for a water bucket?

Moji Haoyu possessed handsome features, resembling an immortal descended from the heavens. He wore a moon-white robe embroidered with silver lotus blossoms, his long, ink-black hair secured by a white lotus crown, exuding an indescribable nobility and refinement. His eyes were as clear and cool as an autumn moon reflected in a lake, stunningly beautiful. Upon closer inspection, however, a tender gentleness softened his gaze as he looked at the woman on the bed.

"I won't drink it! I am not a water bucket!" Yun Qiange muttered as she pulled the blanket up over her head, pressing it down firmly to wrap herself up like a zongzi.

Heaven knew what had gotten into Moji Haoyu. Ever since she fell ill, he seemed like a completely different person, pampering her to the skies. A conspiracy! There had to be a conspiracy in all of this!

His voice turned cool as he stood by her bed holding a bowl of water, a trace of displeasure in his tone: "Didn't I tell you not to move around? Try moving your body again and see what happens."

Hiding beneath the blanket, she mumbled resentfully, "The doctor only told me to rest quietly; he didn't say I couldn't move at all. Leave me alone, you're being overly protective."

"But moving will only cause you pain." Seeing her act like a stubborn child, the man smiled faintly, his eyes as clear as a autumn moon. Compared to her usual icy demeanor, this side of her made him feel that she wasn't so far away after all—real enough for him to touch her inner heart.

Beneath the quilt, her brow furrowed so tightly it could crush a fly. Her voice came out muffled: "If I'm not drinking it, take it away."

Moji Haoyu refused to give up, a flicker of faint worry crossing his brow: "Really not drinking it?" How long would her illness drag on if she kept this up?

"Have you lost your mind?" Yun Qiange suddenly threw off the blanket, exposing her plain face to the air. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from being trapped under the quilt for too long. "Just how much water have I drunk from yesterday until today? My stomach is bloated—look, just look at it."

She miserably pushed her stomach out, and sure enough, it was swollen almost into a ball.

A flash of reluctance flickered in the man's dark eyes, but thinking of her illness, he brought the bowl of water back to her before his tone softened slightly: "Who told you to go running around everywhere without any internal energy? From now on, if you don't have internal energy, stop trying to play the hero saving the beauty. Look at you now, beaten up like a clumsy bear, and I'm the one who has to take care of you."

Yun Qiange pouted guiltily. "So what if I don't have internal energy? I won, didn't I?"

Moji Haoyu sighed softly, set the bowl down, pulled back the blanket, and climbed onto the bed, sharing the same quilt with her.

Hey?! What on earth was he doing!

Yun Qiange shrank back into the corner, inching further and further away until she hit the wall. Yet this series of movements caused a sharp pang of pain, making her gasp. Shifting all her grievances onto him, she glared angrily at her tormentor and scolded, "Hey, Moji Haoyu, why did you suddenly climb into bed? Even if you try to force me, I will never submit to you! You bastard, taking advantage of my vulnerable state—I knew you had ulterior motives."

Carefully tucking the blanket around her, he lay down beside her and smiled gently, "Judging by how much energy you still have to yell at me, your body must be mostly healed."

He placed his hand over her abdomen, slowly channeling a stream of cool internal energy into her body. "Besides, if I were to force you, I'd be the one losing my innocence, wouldn't I, my dear Princess Consort? Do you feel a bit better now?"

He was using his internal energy to soothe her discomfort?

Yun Qiange gazed at the slender, fair hand resting on her stomach, then up at Moji Haoyu's refined face and dark eyes, her expression turning complex. Resisting him, she batted his hand away. "You are clearly the Second Princess's loyal subject—why are you being so nice to me? What are your true intentions?"