Saving the Prince Regent - Chapter 32

Chapter 32 – A Helpless Man (1)

Translator: Lunarise

Editor: Lunarise

Proofreader: Livyuna

“Shen Fei…” Zhao Xi was at a loss for words. She had kissed his eyes, and he had accepted it without any protest.

He obviously couldn’t move because of the condition he was in. So, Zhao Xi only kissed him when he allowed it, with his consent. He struggled a bit, but gave in, surrendering to her.

Zhao Xi had always been different from her childhood. She liked to touch and caress and explore. She would also kiss anything she found beautiful. She had once found her master’s eyes so exquisite and tried kissing them, but she was punished with the toughest and dirtiest chores for the deed. Master hadn’t forgiven her for two whole years.

She also knew a guy who lived next door, who had very lovely eyes. She had made the mistake of asking him if she could kiss them. He hated her then, called her to have her head checked, that she was psychopathic. He never talked to her again, always tried to avoid the places where he might find her.

Shen Fei was the first person who had let her do it with no protest or anger afterwards. Zhao Xi felt glad and thankful.

She wanted to help him into his wheelchair that she had bought for him and take him strolling around the mountains. She wanted to show him all the precious places she loved and treasured. But the sun was going to go down, it was getting late. Tomorrow, she thought, I will show him everything tomorrow.

She was still hesitant and worried that she might have overstepped the boundary. If not angry, maybe he was uncomfortable, or disgusted. So, she did what she thought he liked- she gave him a bath. She had noticed that Shen Fei would be content for the entire day whenever he had a bath. Especially in the morning, when she gave him a bath and washed his hair, he would lounge in the courtyard and called her with his deep, melodic voice, “Zhao Xi…,” to ask anything that was concerning him.

Zhao Xi never heard her name uttered so beautifully than when he did it. It reminded her of all the best things in the world, like the quiet bubbling of a stream or the clinking of the precious jade. His voice was mesmerizing and deep with a little roughness. It was raw and beautiful, like a soothing symphony of nature.

He didn’t call her often, though, only if there was something that troubled him like the clothes blown to the grown by the winds, or if it was raining and he wanted to go back in. But he always seemed to hold back. Once she had rushed out and found him soaked and amidst a storm, as the rain kept pelting him harshly. He didn’t want to bother her, and he hated to depend on the smallest thing. He would allow himself to be soaked in the rain in the hopes that it would stop after a sprinkle and he wouldn’t need to ask for help.

Zhao Xi took him inside that day and tried to wipe him dry as best as she could. She had boiled some water and wiped him so he wouldn’t be cold and laid him down on the bed with his long hair falling down the side, so she could dry them. He would be stone-still, allowing her to finish with whatever she did, so as not to make it difficult. She enjoyed touching his hair; it was so soft, and his ears were so warm and delicate. She would sometimes lift his upper body and let him lean on her so she could clean his back, which was full of rashes from lying down.

Once Zhao Xi had fallen asleep on the table on her elbow, when she woke up in the morning, her arms were numb, and she felt the pinpricks like a thousand needles poking at her arms. It was itchy and a bit painful. She realized that Shen Fei must go through this every day, in silence. So, she took care to wipe and clean his back often, trying to soothe the rashes. Shen Fei, of course, never told her about it. Whether it hurt or felt itchy, he was always trying not to burden her.

Zhao Xi had taken upon herself to help whenever she could, she would take a cloth and rub the area on his back where there were rashes, asking him where it itched the most. He remained silent in the beginning when she started doing this, but occasionally, he abandoned his silence and would tell her, “It’s itchy there the most, just around the shoulders.”

She longed for him to talk; his deep voice was always so beautiful. It was a pity he didn’t enjoy talking. Whenever he talked a little, Zhao Xi wanted to hear more. Sometimes, she resorted to petty methods to make him speak. She would leave the food cooking in the pot and walk away somewhere, hoping he would call her.