Chapter 39: Chapter Fourteen [There's Something Wrong] (Part 2)

Murong Feiyan's pretty face flushed; this guy is really too shameless—how could such words be said so bluntly?

Actually she came over just to have the stitches removed; since it's stitch removal, she definitely needs to take off her clothes, but Hu Xiaotian's way of speaking is really hard to accept.

Hu Xiaotian seemed oblivious to her angry gaze, got up and bolted the door, then shut the window, and with a smirk said: "Will you take them off yourself, or shall I help you?"

"Utterly shameless!" Murong Feiyan shouted angrily.

Hu Xiaotian sighed and said: "Are you kidding? I just want to help you remove the stitches, I have no shameless thoughts; I don't expect you to repay my kindness, but we shouldn't repay kindness with enmity, right?"

Murong Feiyan snorted coldly, grabbed the long sword on the table, and rose to leave. Although she is a constable, after all she is a young woman; Hu Xiaotian's earlier remarks wounded her pride terribly. "If you tell me to undress, I'll undress—what would that make me?" Not counting your help in treating my injury, I would surely beat you up.

Hu Xiaotian said: "It's been seven days; you need to think this through clearly. These stitches must be removed, otherwise they'll get infected, swell, fester, leave scars—not to mention possibly endanger your life. I mean no harm, Constable Murong; even if you're angry with me, don't punish yourself for my mistake."

Murong Feiyan pondered; indeed, that's the case—if I just walk away, am I not just avoiding myself? She turned away, gave Hu Xiaotian a cold glance, and said: "I don't need you to remove the stitches; I'll go find Mr. Li."

Hu Xiaotian laughed: "Mr. Li is probably as helpless as a mud Buddha crossing the river—he can't even save himself. Besides, only the one who tied the bell can untie it; your wound was stitched by me, so naturally I should remove the stitches. Constable Murong, do you not trust my medical skills?"

Although Murong Feiyan disliked his character, she still held a positive view of his medical skill. Setting that aside, only someone who could extract a barbed canine-tooth arrow and treat her wound this well is no ordinary doctor. She had seen the scars left by such arrows—none were anything but horrifyingly scarred. Thinking this, Murong Feiyan finally returned to her seat, glared fiercely at Hu Xiaotian, and warned: "You'd better show me some respect."

Hu Xiaotian smiled: "Actually I'm kind-hearted, just a bit foul-mouthed. Well, Constable Murong, please undress!" He uttered a word he considered rather elegant.

Murong Feiyan was really at a loss—what's the difference between taking off clothes and loosening them? She shook her head, turned her pretty face away from Hu Xiaotian, then removed her outer robe on the left, revealing her snow-white, delicate shoulder.

Hu Xiaotian thought, "This little Miss Murong is putting on airs—loosening clothes isn't the same as taking them off? If you tell me to undress, you act all hostile toward me, but if you say loosen, you'll accept it—what's the big deal? One day I'll make you obediently let me loosen your clothes completely clean." The evil thought flashed and vanished, immediately replaced by self-reproach: "Damn, when did I become such a **? I'm a doctor, she's a patient—how could a doctor have such shameless thoughts toward a patient? Even if this patient has personality, is beautiful, how can a doctor think of stripping a patient's clothes? I'm really despicable, utterly shameless? Medical ethics—I've always been a person of medical integrity."

He repeatedly recited his professional ethics in his mind, yet even in that moment Hu Xiaotian's eyes didn't stray—her shoulder was snow-white, delicate, with graceful curves. Not looking at such a beautiful shoulder would be a waste. Hu Xiaotian still had some professional integrity: he looked, but ultimately suppressed his desire, refraining from touching her a few times. Of course, another important reason was that he had witnessed Murong Feiyan's martial prowess. If he really reached out and touched her, the likely payoff would be a furious beating like a storm; weighing pros and cons, it's better to rein in his ego and act as a gentleman of conscience and medical ethics.

Murong Feiyan's wound had healed well; Hu Xiaotian's surgery was successful, the suturing very neat. Although there was a reddish scar before and after, after some time of recovery it should basically return to normal—if you don't look closely, you wouldn't notice. Speaking of which, women of this era don't usually wear backless evening gowns, so aside from her future husband, nobody else would get to see the tiny scar on her shoulder. Hu Xiaotian lit the prepared alcohol, scorched the suture scissors and tweezers in the flame, then began removing Murong Feiyan's stitches. He had sutured three stitches on each side; when removing the back stitches, she couldn't see his expression, feeling somewhat more natural. But when he removed the front shoulder stitches, he always felt this guy's breathing grew noticeably heavier, hot puffs blowing onto her neck.

Murong Feiyan was overcome with shame, her pretty face flushed all the way to the base of her neck; she repeatedly thought those two characters "**" in her mind countless times. Although in fact Hu Xiaotian had indeed done nothing "**", this still didn't stop her imagination, and in the end her heart boiled down to four characters: "** not as good as".

Hu Xiaotian felt no discomfort; he removed the last suture, then disinfected her with the alcohol, and straightened up. Murong Feiyan had already swiftly pulled her robe back up, covering her exposed shoulder.

Hu Xiaotian, having removed the stitches from her back to her front, seemingly to ease the awkward atmosphere, smiled and said: "Let me tell you a joke: a man and a woman sleep in the same bed; the woman draws a line down the middle and tells the man, 'If you dare cross it tonight, you're a **.' The next morning the woman finds the man truly didn't cross the line, and says to him, 'You're not even a **.'"

Murong Feiyan's pretty face flushed instantly; her hand naturally gripped the sword hilt again, and she silently cursed Hu Xiaotian, "** not as good as".

Hu Xiaotian saw that this little miss was thin-skinned and lacked a bit of humor, so he quickly changed the subject: "Your wound is healing well; lately don't sunbathe, lest pigmentation form."

Murong Feiyan exclaimed in astonishment: "Sunbathing?"

Hu Xiaotian said: "Just basking naked in the sun."

"Vulgar!" Murong Feiyan immediately gave him that two-word evaluation.

Hu Xiaotian said: "Hey, communicating with you is really a pain—this isn't vulgar, just a lifestyle. Back where I'm from, men and women alike love to strip naked and lie on the beach to soak up the sun. That's called sunbathing; if you want to live healthily, sunshine, air, and water are indispensable—don't you even understand this simple truth?"

Murong Feiyan said dubiously: "Your hometown? I don't believe it—how could there be such shameless men and women?" This criticism widened, even dragging in Hu Xiaotian's fellow townspeople.

Hu Xiaotian said: "This is feudal thinking—sunlight exposure can promote the formation of a vitamin in the human body, and this vitamin is key to absorbing a certain mineral,"

"Isn't that complicated?"

Murong Feiyan, who didn't understand vitamins or minerals, scoffed: "Not complicated at all—just sunbathing! But sunbathing doesn't necessarily require taking off one's clothes!"

Hu Xiaotian blinked and asked: "Do you know why my skin tone is so healthy and good-looking?"

Murong Feiyan picked up the long sword, pointed its hilt at Hu Xiaotian, and said: "What's good about that dark, dull complexion? I warn you—don't let me see you doing anything indecent, or I'll surely arrest you!"

Hu Xiaotian laughed: "All right, another day when the weather is clear and the sun bright, go to my backyard—I'll definitely be sunbathing there; feel free to come arrest me!"

"Shameless!" Murong Feiyan felt no word suited Hu Xiaotian better.

As Hu Xiaotian was putting away the surgical kit, Murong Feiyan slid open the bolt; Li Yifeng and Yuan Shiqing were just about to knock, at which point Li Yifeng's face grew ever paler—he had even vomited up his overnight meal, and merely staying upright without collapsing was already no easy feat.

Yuan Shiqing also didn't know what had happened to the chief, but he smiled and stepped forward, clasping his hands in greeting to the two: "Young Master Hu, Constable Murong, it's already noon; our chief has specially set up a banquet at Yanyun Lou, and hopes you'll grant us the honor of your presence."

Hu Xiaotian gave Li Yifeng a smiling, harmless, purely friendly glance—yet Li Yifeng felt a chill run down his spine from Hu Xiaotian's smile; he turned around and, after just two steps, vomited.