Chapter 164: I'm thick-skinned

You came to my door yourself, I also have no way, Baobao.

Hearing Wen Ling's question, Zhou Yinhe looked innocent.

Wen Ling struggled and shouted, "I didn't! I just showed you a video, what's wrong with me?"

"No?" Zhou Yinhe's face changed instantly, his smile gradually becoming something else, full of……

Wen Ling looked, let out a sound, and said aggrievedly, "I just apologized to you."

"I haven't forgiven you again."

"But you just said you wouldn't hold it against me."

"Not holding a grudge means forgiveness?"

Wen Ling was furious, tears welling in her eyes, "You're being unreasonable."

"Fine, say whatever you want." Zhou Yinhe lowered his head to bite her; Wen Ling couldn't dodge in time, and he bit her somewhat hard, causing tears to stream down the corner of her eye onto her hair.

He indeed didn't use her wrist.

Wen Ling stood before the washbasin, looking at herself in the mirror; a red patch appeared on her front, not sure if the skin was broken, and touching water stung a bit.

Zhou Yinhe walked over, stood behind her, smiling as he looked at her; Wen Ling glared at him through the mirror.

"Am I being excessive?"

Wen Ling felt he was somewhat self-righteous; she turned and kissed him directly. She hadn't rinsed her mouth, and Zhou Yinhe easily tasted something odd, but he didn't dodge, cupping the back of her head to deepen the kiss.

After Wen Ling was released, her eyes were watery and her cheeks flushed.

"You don't despise me?"

"A kiss delivered to my door—why wouldn't I want it?"

Wen Ling glared at him, "You clearly know I wasn't talking about that."

"Do I despise myself?" Zhou Yinhe pinched her cheeks, his words coming out mushy.

Wen Ling wiped her mouth, gave him a sideways glance, turned, and continued brushing her teeth.

Zhou Yinhe stood beside her, also preparing to brush his teeth; Wen Ling glanced at him, "You're not saying you don't despise me, are you?"

"I don't despise you; I'm just brushing my teeth."

…… Wen Ling admired his thick skin, finished brushing her teeth, tossed him aside, and hurried out of the bathroom, but the room's smell hit her; she narrowed her eyes, angrily went to the balcony to open the window, and also turned on the air circulation.

Zhou Yinhe followed behind her; seeing this, he raised a hand to shield his eyes, unable to stop his laughter.

How adorable, this is his Baobao.

Wen Ling turned and scolded him, "How can you laugh? So annoying."

"My skin is thick, so I just laughed."

Fine, Wen Ling had nothing to say; she glared at him until her eyes hurt, then simply ignored him and went to bed to sleep.

Fortunately, Zhou Yinhe still had a conscience earlier; the sheets were still clean, otherwise Wen Ling would really have gotten angry.

Zhou Yinhe laughed and sighed, got into bed and hugged Wen Ling; his finger accidentally touched her front, and she cried out in pain.

"Don't touch me! It hurts!"

Zhou Yinhe's hand trembled; he had just been teasing Wen Ling, not noticing this spot.

"Let me see."

Wen Ling refused, keeping her back to him no matter what, her voice choked with resentment: "You only think of yourself, never considering me."

Zhou Yinhe felt a pang in his heart, guilt welling up, making him feel terrible; he simply got out of bed, went to the side where Wen Ling was facing, turned on the bedside lamp, knelt beside the bed, and coaxed gently, "Baobao, let me see; I, I really didn't mean to."

Wen Ling slowly opened her eyes, looking at Zhou Yinhe's face close to hers; the guilt on her face was obvious, and the heartache and worry in her eyes were even stronger.

She raised the arm blocking her front to show him.

Zhou Yinhe saw the red patch, rose and hurried downstairs; there was a servant on duty at night, who, seeing him come down, looked flustered and rushed forward.

"Do you have any anti-inflammatory ointment?"

The servant hurried to fetch the medicine box, while searching said, "There are several kinds; which one do you want?"

Zhou Yinhe took it directly and carried the whole medicine box upstairs.

Wen Ling pursed her lips, sitting on the bedhead watching him; Zhou Yinhe's steps paused, then he went forward, found the ointment he needed, and carefully applied it to Wen Ling.

Wen Ling lowered her eyes to watch his movements, then glanced at his complexion.

"Isn't this your fault? Why are you worrying like this?"

Zhou Yinhe felt a pang in his heart, apologizing, "Sorry."

Wen Ling knew this sentence might have hurt him, she bit her lip, still holding some lingering anger, and turned her face away from him.

Zhou Yinhe finished applying the ointment to her, knelt on one knee beside the bed, lifted his gaze to her face, and apologized again.

"Baobao, sorry, it's my fault; I shouldn't have only thought of myself."

Wen Ling looked at him again.

After a long silence, Wen Ling raised her hand and pinched his cheek hard, venting her frustration.

"Get up, you know this is moral blackmail, right?"

Seeing Wen Ling calm down, Zhou Yinhe's tone turned joking, he breathed a sigh of relief, hugged her waist, avoiding her injured spot, and rested his cheek against her lower abdomen.

Wen Ling was poked by his hair, but didn't dodge; she reached up to ruffle his hair.

While rubbing, she said, "From now on, this is not allowed."

But she herself knew that if Zhou Yinhe did this again next time, she would still rely on him.

Zhou Yinhe hummed, and his closed eyes held tiny glints of moisture.

They slept late; waking up in the morning, it was already near noon. When they went downstairs, they saw Wenhuai and Qin Siqing accompanying the two old gentlemen.

They knew about Zhou Yinhe going downstairs last night to get ointment; Qin Siqing saw Wen Ling and anxiously asked, "A Ling, are you hurt?"

Wen Ling's cheeks flushed, she hurriedly shook her head, "No, no."

"Then why are you still looking for anti-swelling ointment?" Qin Siqing said, reaching out to examine Wen Ling, but Wen Ling quickly stepped back, half her body hiding behind Zhou Yinhe, before saying: "I was just fooling Zhou Yinhe for fun; he took it seriously."

Qin Siqing was half doubtful, looking suspiciously at Zhou Yinhe; Wen Ling poked Zhou Yinhe, and Zhou Yinhe could only nod.

"Mm, not injured."

Qin Siqing breathed a sigh of relief, "You scared me."

Wen Ling's heart stirred; for the first time she spoke to Qin Siqing in a softer voice.

"Really, it's fine; don't worry."

Wenhuai had already withdrawn his gaze, but hearing Wen Ling's words, he suddenly lifted his head and looked toward Wen Ling.

Wen Ling, however, felt a bit embarrassed, went around Qin Siqing toward the dining room, asking the steward as she walked: "Is there breakfast? We're hungry."

The steward glanced at Qin Siqing, still frozen in place, and smiled reassuringly: "Yes, I'll have someone bring it over right away. Would you and Fifth Young Master like anything else to eat?"

Wen Ling said: "I don't want any; give him some extra bacon."

The steward left at once; Wen Ling grabbed Zhou Yinhe's hand and walked into the dining room. After sitting down, Wen Ling leaned close to Zhou Yinhe's ear and whispered softly: "Nervous."

Zhou Yinhe pursed his lips and smiled: "Don't be nervous; you can't keep keeping a distant attitude from Aunt Qin forever, can you?"

Wen Ling thought it over, felt it unlikely, and sighed: "I don't know how you get along with Aunt Ning, but everything feels strange to me."