Chapter One Hundred and Ninety-Four: A Stolen Kiss

"What?"

The elderly monk pulled a triangular yellow paper talisman from inside his robe and handed it to Wen Jingxing.

"This is a peace talisman. When you give it to Song Wanning, you must put it on her with your own hands. This item can ward off disasters for her."

He spoke with deep earnestness.

Wen Jingxing could not help asking, "Is it different if you give it to her yourself?"

"It is different."

"How is it different?"

"Why are both of you exactly the same, always making things difficult for me! Ask again and you can return the item to me." Finding no excuse to fob Wen Jingxing off, the old monk resorted to preemptive anger.

Wen Jingxing touched the tip of his nose, knowing the old man's mindset; since the old man was dead set against telling him, he pressed no further.

There must be some hidden reason behind this, one that the old monk did not want him to know.

Wen Jingxing had known the old monk since he was a child, so he trusted the other party and believed the old man would never harm him.

Later, while he was alone with Song Wanning, he brought the matter up.

Song Wanning would normally not have believed in such things, but with both the old monk and the young novice continuously reminding her, she inevitably grew more cautious and agreed to let Wen Jingxing put it on her.

Knowing that Song Wanning would be leaving after one more day, the old monk did not try to keep the two of them that afternoon. Using the excuse that he had matters to attend to, he left, telling Song Wanning to take the young novice out to play.

The young novice spent the entire afternoon playing wildly in the temple. Usually, the old monk refused to buy him snacks, but whenever Song Wanning was around, she would agree to whatever he asked. Therefore, he was always fond of staying with Song Wanning.

As evening approached and the sun was about to set, the old monk finally reappeared, looking rather travel-worn.

Mindful that she would be leaving the next day, Song Wanning specially cooked a dinner for the old monk and the young novice.

The old monk was quite pleased.

Song Wanning had always thought the man was a proper, austere monk who touched neither meat nor wine. Little did she know that at the height of their high spirits, the old monk dug out a jar of wine from a corner of the courtyard.

Song Wanning instantly began to harbor some doubts about the efficacy of that peace talisman.

The old monk claimed it was peach blossom wine, aged for several decades, which he had never been willing to bring out to drink. Even today, he stipulated that everyone was limited to just one cup.

Before she had even tasted it, Song Wanning knew it was fine wine simply from the aroma.

So, taking advantage of the old monk's slight intoxication, she stealthily poured herself another cup.

Watching her eager eagerness, Wen Jingxing said, "If I don't drink my cup, I'll give it to you too."

Song Wanning's face was flushed, but her eyes were bright. "Really?!"

"Yes, really." With that, he pushed his cup of wine across to Song Wanning.

Song Wanning never refused such offerings; she tilted her head back and drank it down.

While the wine smelled fragrant, it packed a powerful punch. After three cups, she was essentially completely drunk.

She could no longer sit steadily in her chair, swaying first to one side and then to the other.

Fearing she would fall, Wen Jingxing hurriedly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest.

The young novice sat in his chair, turning his round head left to look at Grandpa Sha, then right to look at Song Wanning. Finally, he trotted over to Wen Jingxing, tugged on his sleeve, and asked, "Brother Jingxing, what's wrong with them?"

"They're drunk."

"What does being drunk mean?"

"It means... losing consciousness and often doing silly things."

"Really?" The young novice touched his own chin, pondering with a serious expression.

"Yes. Why don't you help Grandpa Sha back to his room to rest first? We can clean up the bowls and chopsticks tomorrow."

"Okay!" The young novice agreed; taking care of Grandpa Sha was what he was most familiar with.

From the moment Grandpa Sha had taken him in and kept him from wandering the streets, he had resolved to take good care of the old man.

By this time, Song Wanning was thoroughly drunk, and though her body felt limp, Wen Jingxing effortlessly hoisted her up and gathered her into his arms.

He gently laid her onto the bed, then picked up a bucket from the corner, intending to fetch some hot water from the hot springs—waiting for water to boil on the stove was simply too slow.

He grabbed an extra bucket as well, planning to bring some water over for Grandpa Sha too; the young novice was still too small to carry such a weight.

When he finished his chores and returned, he found Song Wanning lying quietly on the bed, fast asleep, yet continually murmuring drunken nonsense. Wen Jingxing leaned down to listen and caught intermittent fragments: "Wen... Jingxing is... a stinky man!"

Wen Jingxing smiled helplessly. This woman wasn't even well-behaved in her sleep; she was actually cursing him.

He reached out and pinched Song Wanning's smooth cheek, causing her to knit her brows at the chill of his knuckles.

Withdrawing his hand, Wen Jingxing warmed it in the hot water before taking a warm towel and fresh warm water to wipe Song Wanning's face and hands.

When he reached her feet, Song Wanning became particularly restless, constantly pulling them away. Wen Jingxing had no choice but to firmly grasp her ankle, rendering her immobile.

She groggily sat up. "Eh? Why can't I move my foot?"

"Be a good girl, just wait while I wipe it for you."

Wen Jingxing soothed her in a gentle tone.

Hearing his voice, Song Wanning lunged forward instantly. "Jingxing, Jingxing..."

She kept calling his name without saying anything else. Wen Jingxing simply ignored it; after wiping her clean, he helped her out of her outer garments. Feeling the chill, Song Wanning instinctively burrowed back beneath the covers.

Following her lead, Wen Jingxing tucked her securely back into bed before heading out to clear the mess. He emptied what needed to be emptied and washed what needed to be washed.

The cleaned bowls and plates were placed in a basket to drain.

In the corner, the senior cameraman was keeping company with Wen Jingxing's personal videographer.

The senior cameraman took a deep drag of his cigarette, clicked his tongue, and shook his head. "Young Master Wen is sinking deeper and deeper!"

The cameraman scratched his head. "How so?"

"Look at him. If this were before, could you ever imagine Young Master Wen washing bowls and chopsticks?"

The cameraman shook his head vigorously. "I couldn't imagine it."

"There you go. Tsk tsk tsk, Song Wanning really is blessed. Seeing them so happy, I can finally rest easy."

The cameraman retorted, "Why are you acting like an old mother?"

After finishing all the chores, Wen Jingxing took a shower. Upon returning to the room, he discovered that Song Wanning had shifted very restlessly from the middle of the bed to the very edge—just a fraction more, and a single roll would have sent her tumbling to the floor.

He hurried over, slipped one arm under the back of her neck and the other beneath the bends of her knees, and scooped her up to move her back toward the center of the bed.

Yet at that exact instant, Wen Jingxing suddenly felt a cool, soft sensation graze his chin. It made his entire body shudder and involuntarily freeze in place. Looking down, he saw Song Wanning fast asleep with her eyes closed.

Could it have been an illusion?

And yet, their faces had been some distance apart; if Song Wanning hadn't lifted her head up, how could she have kissed him?

Wen Jingxing set her down, pinched her cheek, and probed tentatively, "A-ning? A-ning??"

Yet the person beneath him remained deeply asleep, offering no reaction or movement whatsoever.