Everyone Hates My Frail Body.

Chapter 7: Frail Body

Chapter 7: Frail Body

“…My hand hurts a little.” Song Qie tried to pull his hand back, feeling frustrated. Why did everyone in this story insist on touching him?

Thinking Song Qie was concerned about him, Lu Beihuai suppressed his disgust and spoke softly, “It’s okay, Master. I’m not hurt.”

“My hand hurts,” Song Qie repeated, looking at him with a hint of dejection.

Lu Beihuai fell silent, loosening his grip. He noticed Song Qie's slender wrist had turned red from his hold, though he hadn’t applied any real pressure. He sighed inwardly. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong with you? Are you really getting beaten up for money?” Song Qie’s frown deepened as he looked at the bruises on Lu Beihuai's arms, which were still bleeding and poorly treated. “How much does my mother give you every month? Isn’t it enough?”

His implication was clear: Wasn’t the money I provide sufficient?

Lu Beihuai thought to himself that he received 5,000 yuan each month, but the costs of his father’s hospitalization due to heart failure were far beyond that. He might even need a heart transplant later on, which would be even more expensive.

But could this so-called 5,000 yuan be enough? He felt he owed Song Qie more than just money; he wanted to reclaim all the grievances he had suffered over the past decade. He would do anything to take back what belonged to Song Qie.

“My dad is in the hospital and needs a lot of money,” he admitted. “So I thought I’d do as much as I can.”

“Why is he in the hospital?” Song Qie noticed the grim expression on Lu Beihuai’s face, realizing the situation was serious. “I’ll talk to my parents and help my uncle.”

With that, he headed toward the study, recalling that there was a medicine box in the cabinet.

“Master, the floor is cold with the air conditioning on. You need to wear slippers!” Lu Beihuai called after him as he bent down to pick up the slippers nearby and followed into the study.

Song Qie dashed into the study and opened the cabinet, finding the medicine box right where he expected.

As he turned around to leave, he saw Lu Beihuai entering, holding the slippers. His ears flushed red.

Before Song Qie could speak, Lu Beihuai squatted down in front of him and took hold of his ankles. “Master, please put on your shoes.”

Song Qie’s heart raced. His grip on the medicine box trembled as he nearly dropped it. Trying to evade the situation, he lifted his ankle, but Lu Beihuai caught the sole of his foot, causing his cheeks to heat up instantly.

“Your feet are cold,” Lu Beihuai noted, lifting his gaze to meet Song Qie’s flustered expression. Noticing the boy’s blush, he thought that perhaps his touch had made him shy. “Don’t set the air conditioning so low. You haven’t fully recovered yet; it’s easy to catch a cold.”

After putting on the slippers for Song Qie, he stood up and moved toward the cloakroom.

As Lu Beihuai left, Song Qie released a sigh of relief, trying to calm his racing heart. He placed the medicine box on the desk, but then saw Lu Beihuai return, holding a pair of socks.

Squatting on one knee, he lifted Song Qie's ankle and placed it on his knee, ready to put on the socks.

“!!!!” Song Qie gasped, pulling his foot back reflexively. However, the force of his movement threw him off balance.

“Careful,” Lu Beihuai warned, catching Song Qie around the waist and lifting him effortlessly. Before he realized it, he was sitting on the desk.

His heart raced as he locked eyes with Lu Beihuai. The intensity of the moment left him breathless, feeling pinned in place, unable to escape.