My Bloodthirty Husband Is So Gentle

She stared at his hand, mesmerized.

What a beauty. I want to touch…

Shi Jin looked at her and said, “A little swollen. I’ll prescribe something for you later.”

Forcing herself out of her hypnotic state of fascination with his hands, she muttered, “…Okay.”

She felt that her hand fetish had gotten worse. It was probably terminal. Shi Jin only had to lift one slender finger to get her heart racing and flustered. Struggling to breathe naturally, she started to reach for her glass of water—

“Don’t move the arm unnecessarily,” Shi Jin reminded her.

Jiang Jiusheng ceased reaching for the glass and lay back down on her pillow.

Shi Jin laughed gently, his slightly squinting eyes adding a hint of youthfulness to his usual elegance. Stooping, he looked Jiang Jiusheng in the eye and asked, “Shall I help you?” He gently reminded her, “Your arm has just been put in a cast. Best not to move it.”

He was so close that she could detect the pungent smell of disinfectant and, probably because he had come directly from the operating theatre, the unfamiliar smell of blood.

She flinched and bumped her injured arm. Frowning in pain, she asked Shi Jin, “Can you help me elevate this arm?”

Any major movement could cause further tissue damage. Doctor Sun had said so.

“No need,” Shi Jin said with a shake of his head. “I can be your hand.”

That said, he took the glass and put it against her lips.

Although Doctor Sun had also recommended bedside assistance to minimize further damage to this precious arm—critical to the livelihood of a musician—Jiang Jiusheng had never in her wildest dreams expected the suave Doctor Shi to be such a natural at serving someone. She was at a loss as to how to react.

Jiang Jiusheng had once thought that only rock music, with the wild screams and frenzied acts on stage, could ignite her deepest emotions. It now appeared that Shi Jin was also capable of touching her inner core, throwing her into the unknown territory of tumultuous emotions. She was very curious as to why this man, whom everyone revered, was willing to be a “secret fan,” a label that obviously carried negative connotations.

“Sheng.”

Shi Jin spoke her name suddenly. The water in the glass he was holding formed gentle ripples.

Jiang Jiusheng lifted her head as the door opened, and in walked Xiao Qiao.

“Let Xiao Qiao do this,” she said.

Shi Jin smiled without saying a word.

Eventually, it was Xiao Qiao who fed her the soup and gave her the water.

When Shi Jin did not visit this neighbor of his that night, she reflected that he was probably not used to rejection and must have been offended at having been rejected by her. Then again, since they were merely neighbors, she might have been reading too much into the incident. Putting aside the fact that he was a fervent fan, it was still customary for a sophisticate like Shi Jin to treat people with grace and warmth; any over-reaction on her part would probably come across as wishful thinking.

Jiang Jiusheng slept well in the super luxurious and comfortable VIP room at the First Tianbei Hospital. The next morning, Su Qing stopped by, dressed uncharacteristically low-key in jeans, a sweatshirt, glasses, and a face mask. She conducted a quick, furtive sweep of the environment and looked relieved when she saw the bodyguards.

Amused that the great Celebrity Su also had cause to avoid the media, Jiang Jiusheng greeted, “Miss Su, have a seat.”

Su Qing was floored by the term “Miss Su.” Jiang Jiusheng had struck her where it hurt most, and in the subtlest manner. This was what Su Qing’s manager had meant when he’d claimed that while there were plenty of smart people in the industry, not one of them came close to Jiang Jiusheng in terms of keeping her intelligence under wraps. There was no need for innuendos in this conversation, then.

Laughing, Su Qing decided to bite the bullet. She got straight to the point. “Sheng, let’s not beat about the bush. Show me your cards.”

Jiang Jiusheng poured her a glass of water. Su Qing accepted the glass and waited.

Jiang Jiusheng reached into her closet drawer for a pack of cigarettes, took out one cigarette, and rolled it around in her fingers, unlit. Su Qing began to feel anxious.

Finally, Jiang Jiusheng asked, “So, you’d give us a discount for future MVs?”

Su Qing was silent for a moment. Was that all she wanted in return for keeping her mouth shut?

Stunned, Su Qing eventually recovered and confirmed. “Free of charge forever. And we’ll throw in the promos as well.”

Laughing, Jiang Jiusheng said, “Then I hope that you stay popular for a very long time.”

What a cool customer! Not only did she not do her in or try to blackmail her for massive favors, but Jiang Jiusheng also gave her a way to save face and make her feel indebted.

Su Qing was suddenly reminded of what loan officers at banks liked to say to reassure people: We are happy to lend you as much as you want. With the low interest rates, you can be assured that the repayments will not be a problem.

Without a doubt, Jiang Jiusheng was someone very deep, yet oh-so darned attractive and charming.

Immensely relieved that her problem had been resolved, Su Qing exclaimed cheerfully, “But of course! Remember my slogan: ‘Shout out loud at the top of your voice—Su Qing Forever!'”

Jiang Jiusheng simply laughed. A meeting of the minds of two smart people—honest and brief with a happy outcome.

“Why?” Jiang Jiusheng asked in a casual tone.

Su Qing took a chair and sat by the bed, feeling relaxed. Reaching for an orange, she began peeling it and explained, “When I was a kid, we were heavily in debt and had to resort to anything to make ends meet. In my late teens, I became a bartender, and, although I was no great beauty, it was less problematic to pose as a man. When He Xiangbo wanted to sign me, I was just a small-time street gangster. By then, it was too late to return to wearing skirts and being a girl. After all, I had been pretending to be male for almost 20 years, so where or how could I resume being a girly female?”