Blushing, Kissed by the Young Master

In the villa, Aunt Qian was crying uncontrollably.

When she saw Qiao Xi and Du Juan return, she wiped her tears and said, "Madam, the eldest young master barged into the young master's room with a doctor and drew a large amount of blood."

"Where is he?"

"He's still in the room."

Du Juan clutched her chest and staggered toward the stairs. Her high heels twisted, and she sprained her foot. Seeing this, Qiao Xi quickly supported her.

"Thank you," Du Juan's voice was tight and choked.

As they reached the corridor, they saw the door to the master bedroom open.

A young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses stood there, his sharp eyes glinting. His hair was impeccably styled, and his attire was lavish. He smiled faintly as he looked at them. His gaze passed over Qiao Xi's face with a hint of coldness.

"Aunt, this is the country bumpkin from the countryside, right? A proud son of heaven like Xingzhou can only marry a village woman now," he sneered.

"Huo Beiting, what exactly are you trying to do?" Du Juan asked coldly.

Huo Beiting's tone was smug. "I came here under Grandpa's orders to have a doctor examine Xingzhou. Did you misunderstand something?"

"Has the examination finished? Please leave."

"Don't speak to me like that, Aunt. The main house has been looking for Old Master Cheng for years. We have more leads than you from the second house."

The old master of the Huo family had been severely injured in his youth, and every winter his limbs would ache unbearably. No famous doctors could cure him, so he had been hoping to find the national doctor, Cheng Han.

Seeing Du Juan's ugly expression, Huo Beiting smiled with satisfaction. "Aunt, I'll take my leave now."

He walked off with pride, no longer weighed down by the gloomy years he spent under the shadow of Huo Xingzhou.

A cripple—how could he ever be the next heir of the Huo family?

Du Juan bit her lip, watching them leave. When she moved, a sharp pain shot through her foot.

"I'll check your injury," Qiao Xi supported her and helped her sit on the corridor floor. She gently pressed her fingers around Du Juan's ankle. "It's fine, nothing's broken."

Qiao Xi didn't know what she did, but after twisting the ankle a few times, Du Juan could walk again.

Du Juan looked at the closed door with tears in her eyes, then turned to Qiao Xi. "Can you... can you take care of Xingzhou for me? My foot is fine, but he's more important."

No one knew him like his mother did.

Huo Beiting had caused a scene, but what was really going on inside the room, she didn't know.

He was so proud; he wouldn't want his closest family to see his humiliation.

Qiao Xi understood immediately. She nodded seriously.

"I'll go in. Aunt Qian, please help Madam to rest."

"Alright."

Once they left, Qiao Xi opened the door.

Inside, the room was in disarray, a mess everywhere.

The man was leaning against the edge of the bed, his side profile elegantly noble. His clothes were disheveled, and there were blood stains on them. As he heard the noise, he slowly turned his head, his gaze as sharp as a sword, sending a chill down Qiao Xi's spine.

"Your mother sent me to clean up for you."

Qiao Xi bent down to pick up the pillows, documents, and a cup, putting everything in place.

From behind, she heard the man's low voice: "Are you here to clean the room, or clean me up?" He had deliberately thrown things around, what was there to clean?

If not, how could Huo Beiting have believed that he was mentally broken and unable to stand?

Qiao Xi looked up suddenly and saw him motioning for her.

"I need to change."

"...Okay." Qiao Xi took a pure white cotton loungewear from the closet. When she approached Huo Xingzhou, he had already, naturally, laid out his arms.

She unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off.

His slender, pale body was exposed to her, his skin white and dazzling. Her heart raced. She quickly put his shirt back on but hesitated when holding the pants.

"You looked so proud when you took off my pants earlier, now you're pretending to be shy?" His lips were pale, almost colorless, and his words were sharp.

Qiao Xi paused, gritting her teeth, and angrily pulled off his pants, inch by inch.

So white.

So firm.

These long and strong legs must be great for farm work.

Huo Xingzhou leaned against the edge of the bed, eyes closed, looking resigned, as if giving up. Her soft fingers brushed against his skin, causing him to tremble slightly.

"Reach out."

Qiao Xi wrung a towel and wiped the bloodstains off his arm. The needle marks were clearly visible, the surrounding skin was bruised—they had deliberately drawn so much blood.

Huo Xingzhou's dark gaze swept past her face, and his hand suddenly grabbed her wrist with a firm grip. With a force, Qiao Xi was thrown onto the large bed.

Before she could get up, his upper body was already pressing down on hers. His hot breath brushed her cheek as his low voice sounded, "What did Huo Beiting offer you?"

Qiao Xi's chin was held by his hand, forcing her to tilt her head up and look at him, her almond-shaped eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know him."

It turned out he didn't trust her. Everything before had just been a game.

Now, this proud, steady young master finally showed his cruel side. His right hand slid across her soft waist, his fingertip pressing into her side.

"You know, do you?" His cold voice mixed with an almost imperceptible hint of mischief, "Do you know how they used to interrogate female spies?"

She knew!

There was no escape—either way, she would be tortured and humiliated.

Qiao Xi twisted her body, trying to break free.

"You pulled down my pants twice, so it's only fair if I do it once," he said, his fingers sliding down to her leg.

Qiao Xi's eyes turned red with anger, and she clenched his shoulder tightly, using all her strength to apply pressure on the acupoint. His arm went limp, and he let go.

She took the opportunity to roll off the bed, clutching her pants, and glared at him warily.

Anger. Resentment.

"You... even if you strip me naked, you... still can't do it!" She said, her voice quivering with anger, her cheeks still marked. With that, Qiao Xi pushed the door open and ran back to her room, her face burning with humiliation.

Around the corner in the corridor, two women stepped out.

"Her buttons are undone."

"Her hair's a mess."

"She's blushing... was she kissed by the young master?"

Aunt Qian gave a thumbs up, whispering praise, "Madam's move was clever, sending the young mistress to take care of the young master. A clever trick, filled with sympathy—feelings will be nurtured this way, right?"

Du Juan gave her a side-eyed glance, "It's nothing. I know my son. He won't suffer a great loss in front of Huo Beiting, unless it's on purpose."

Since childhood, had Huo Beiting ever gotten the better of him?

"The young master is smart. As you said."

In the room.

Huo Xingzhou pinched his fingertips, rubbing them again and again.

So soft, like cotton candy.

He looked down, thinking—what did she mean by saying "can't do it"?

If he really used his methods, would she still be able to escape?

Buzz.

The phone on the bedside table vibrated a few times. Zhou Yu's efficiency was impressive—he had already compiled Qiao Xi's entire history into a detailed file and sent it over.

Huo Xingzhou lazily clicked on the report, his fingers pausing as a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes.