"Could you stop moving?" An Xin shouted loudly from the bathroom.
"Hey, who's telling you to press so hard? Big Sis, it hurts!" Xiang Ri grimaced in pain. That damn assassin had managed to hit his arm, and the bullet was still lodged inside.
"The bullet's been removed. Now I need to disinfect the wound. Do you have any disinfectant around here?" Despite her earlier doubts, An Xin couldn't help but admire this man. She hadn't expected him to endure the pain of bullet removal without anesthesia, a testament to his iron will. At the same time, a strange and inexplicable emotion stirred within her—it was, after all, a wound he had taken for her. If not for him pushing her aside in that critical moment, she might have...
"What are you thinking about, so lost in thought?" Xiang Ri interrupted her reverie mercilessly, noticing her dreamy expression.
"Nothing," An Xin's cheeks flushed as she quickly changed the subject. "By the way, where's the disinfectant? You haven't told me yet."
"You can fetch the shoebox from under my bed. And... why is your face so red?"
"It's not! Just wait, I'll go get it." Fleeing the bathroom, An Xin returned a moment later, holding a red-and-white cardboard box. "Is this the one?"
"That's it. Open it," Xiang Ri said casually, snapping his fingers.
An Xin opened the box, only to find a massive silver handgun glinting inside, nothing else. Startled, she almost dropped the box. "Where's the disinfectant?"
"This is it," Xiang Ri said, pointing to the gun.
"The gun?" An Xin's eyes widened as she instinctively reached for the menacing weapon, only to frown at its weight. "Wow, this is heavy!"
"Stop fussing about the weight. First, remove the magazine," Xiang Ri said dismissively. What was the point of calling it a Desert Eagle if it wasn't heavy?
An Xin fumbled with the gun but couldn't figure out how to remove the magazine. "How do you do it?"
"Are you serious? Do you see the round button in the middle? Yes, that one—press it. See? The magazine pops right out."
"You're the one who's dumb!" An Xin retorted angrily. She, a dignified young lady, was already going above and beyond by tending to someone's wound. Now he had the audacity to insult her? If he hadn't taken a bullet for her, she would've walked away in a huff. Fine, she'd endure it for now.
"Then what?" Though she tolerated it, her tone betrayed her dissatisfaction.
"Take out a bullet and twist open the bottom," Xiang Ri instructed. But before he could finish, An Xin gasped in realization. "Ah, I get it now! You're going to use the gunpowder to disinfect the wound!"
Xiang Ri glanced at her with mild surprise. "Seems like you're not entirely clueless."
"What did you say?" An Xin's tone turned sharp before she softened again. "Don't think I don't know anything! They show this stuff on TV all the time. I've just never seen it done in real life. Are you sure this will work?" At the thought of pouring gunpowder into a wound and igniting it, a trace of reluctance appeared on her face. She knew such a method inflicted excruciating pain, the kind few could endure.
"You're about to witness it firsthand," Xiang Ri replied nonchalantly, though deep down he felt uneasy. This wasn't his first time enduring such agony; his former self had done this twice before. The memory of that bone-deep pain, like thousands of ants gnawing at his flesh, remained vivid to this day.
But what choice did he have? After boasting, he couldn't exactly backtrack and ask this woman to go out and buy disinfectant for him. Hell no—he'd rather endure the torture again!
"Zzzzt." Xiang Ri's body trembled violently. It took him a long time to calm down, his face pale and drenched in sweat. Even his voice was much weaker than before. "Stop staring, Big Sis. Hurry up and bandage me."
Snapping out of her daze, An Xin quickly began to bandage his wound. She wrapped the white cloth tightly around his arm and tied it off with a firm knot. During the process, her hands brushed against the injury several times. Although Xiang Ri didn't cry out, merely opening his mouth as if to speak, An Xin's heart clenched each time. By the time she finished, her palms were soaked with sweat.
"Why did you take that bullet for me?" Seeing his complexion return to normal, An Xin couldn't suppress the question burning in her heart any longer.
"Cut the nonsense! I brought you out, and they were after me, not you. If you died, I'd feel guilty. Besides, how could I face Chuchu and Xiaoqing?" Xiang Ri retorted irritably. Truth be told, he felt as though he must have been possessed at that moment—why else would he shield this androgynous Miss An from a bullet?
Could it have been her looks? Perhaps it was just some primal instinct to protect a beautiful woman. But glancing at An Xin dressed like a man, Xiang Ri silently cursed himself for being delusional.
"That's it?" For some reason, An Xin felt a twinge of disappointment at his explanation.
"What else could it be? Did you think it was because of your beauty? Don't kid yourself. Now help me up," Xiang Ri said, extending his left hand. He had been sitting on the floor for too long, and his legs had gone numb.
Apparently oblivious to the mockery in his tone, An Xin helped him up, asking as she did, "But what if you had died?"
"Bah! Don't jinx it! Do I look like someone with a short life? And even if I died, so what? Eighteen years later, I'd be a man again. Why are you staring at me like that? Don't tell me you've fallen for me?"
"Go to hell!" An Xin, who had been asking a serious question, didn't expect him to have the gall to tease her in such a situation. With a huff, she flung her hand away, letting him fall back to the floor.
"Hey! Are you trying to murder your husband?" Xiang Ri exclaimed in alarm. Were it not for his quick reflexes to catch himself, he might have worsened his injuries.
"Whatever. Go die for all I care!" An Xin shot him a frosty glare and started walking out.
"Wait!" Xiang Ri quickly called after her, his tone suddenly conciliatory. "Can you do me a small favor before you go?"
"What do you want?" An Xin turned back, her gaze wary.
"Well... could you help me take a bath? Oh, don't misunderstand—I just need you to scrub my back," Xiang Ri said, plastering on a shameless grin. Inwardly, he was laughing gleefully. Getting An Xin to scrub his back—what a treat!
"Keep dreaming!" Miss An gritted her teeth, seething with anger. Scrub his back? "Just scrub"? Why didn't he just drop dead?
Xiang Ri, however, seemed entirely unfazed by her furious expression and added cheekily, "Come on, think of it as repayment for saving your life."
"Fine! Enough talking!" An Xin snapped, waving her hand impatiently. Her face took on a resolute expression as if she had made a momentous decision. "I'll help you scrub your back, but from now on, we're even. Don't you dare use this as leverage against me ever again!"
Delighted, Xiang Ri urged her on. "Alright, alright, hurry up!" With that, he leaped into the bathtub and eagerly looked at An Xin. "Could you turn on the water for me?"
"You—!" An Xin glared at him but grudgingly walked over to turn on the faucet.
As the tub filled, Xiang Ri stretched his arms leisurely. Watching his nonchalant demeanor infuriated An Xin, but she reminded herself that she was settling a debt of gratitude. Resigned, she reached out to unbutton his shirt.
"My pants too!" Xiang Ri lifted his legs out of the water, clearly enjoying himself.
Unable to hold back any longer, An Xin grabbed a towel and moved to strangle him.
Sensing danger, Xiang Ri quickly lowered his legs. "Don't get mad! It was just a joke, just a joke..." Only then did Miss An's fury subside.
"I'm warning you—if you make one more unreasonable request, don't blame me for being ruthless!"
"I won't, I won't," Xiang Ri promised hastily. He straightened up and gestured to his back. "You can start now."
An Xin removed her jacket, revealing the crisp white shirt beneath. She carefully hung her jacket on a nearby rack—it was her favorite, after all—and rolled up her sleeves, ready to get to work.
At that moment, Xiang Ri suddenly let out a theatrical yelp. "What are you doing? I'll have you know I'm not that kind of man! Bathing together—"
"Shut up!" An Xin smacked him hard on the back. "Say one more word, and you can bathe by yourself!" Realizing how ambiguous her words sounded, she quickly corrected herself, "I mean, I won't scrub your back anymore!"
"Oh," Xiang Ri drawled, dragging out the syllable with a mischievous grin that made his expression unbearably lecherous.
"Enough already! I'm helping you, and you're still acting like this?" An Xin snapped, flinging her hand in frustration. She accidentally splashed water onto her chest, soaking her shirt, though she didn't notice.
Xiang Ri, however, caught sight of the unintended display but kept silent. Instead, he feigned surprise. "Huh? Why are you calling yourself 'Miss' now? Don't you usually say 'this old man'?"
An Xin snorted coldly. "Isn't that just something I picked up from you men?"
Xiang Ri nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still fixated on a certain spot. Without thinking, he blurted out, "Yours must be a 32, right?"
"32C? What 32C?" An Xin froze for a moment, then noticed where his gaze was directed—straight at her chest. She instinctively looked down, only to realize her predicament: the damp fabric clinging to her revealed her contours. Hastily, she covered herself with her hands and snapped angrily, "What are you staring at? Look again, and I'll gouge your eyes out!"
"What's the harm in looking?" Xiang Ri's tone dripped with indifference, showing not a shred of shame for his audacity. Instead, he spoke with ease, as if discussing a mundane topic. "32C isn't small, but I once saw someone with a 36F. It was like she had two basketballs hidden there." His voice unconsciously grew more animated as he finished.
"36F?" An Xin, who had been ready to teach him a lesson, froze mid-action. Her eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement. "Where? Where did you see her? Introduce me to her!"
Xiang Ri's expression turned incredulous. "You… you're not serious, are you?"