The Male Lead Who Dislikes Eating (58)

When Si Jiu emerged from the bathroom, "Charles" was already up and fully dressed.

Seeing him in a formal suit, Si Jiu couldn't help but pause. "Are you going out?"

"Charles" replied, "I made an appointment with Dr. Wen. We’re meeting this morning."

Si Jiu nodded. "Is it for another hypnotherapy session?"

"Charles" walked over. "I’m going to wash up, then I’ll make you breakfast."

He had actually evaded the question. Was it that difficult to answer?

Si Jiu arched an eyebrow but didn't press the matter. She went to the living room to spend some time with Mantou and watched as "Charles" headed into the kitchen to prepare her meal.

"Mantou, why are you so sluggish today?" Si Jiu cradled the dog’s face, ruffling its fur, and noticed it seemed utterly listless.

"Woof... woof-woof..."

*There's a ghost, there's a ghost!*

"You still have plenty of spirit when you bark." Si Jiu, satisfied that the dog wasn't sick, stopped worrying.

"Woof, woof, woof... woof..."

*There really is a ghost! Such a huge one!*

"Don't be so noisy; it's early in the morning, and the soundproofing in this house isn't great," Si Jiu continued to pet him.

"Woof, woof, woof, woof... awoo..." Its voice suddenly turned into a thin whimper, and it tucked its tail, shivering.

Si Jiu frowned. "What’s wrong with you? Do I need to take you to the vet? And... Charles, did you turn on the air conditioning? Why is the living room suddenly so cold?"

"Charles" hurried out of the kitchen. "I didn't turn it on. Are you cold?"

He leaned over to touch her forehead. Finding no fever, he still went back to grab a coat and draped it over her shoulders. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. Maybe I'm just catching a cold."

"Charles" felt a pang of anxiety. "I’ll take you to see a doctor."

Si Jiu laughed. "No need to be so nervous. It’s not that serious; it just feels like the onset of a cold. I’ll have some medicine later and be fine. No wonder I kept feeling cold last night," she muttered to herself.

A trace of displeasure flickered across "Charles's" brow. "He didn't take care of you properly, letting you catch a chill like this?"

Si Jiu: "..."

"He isn't good at all. Yet, Your Highness, you like him so much." He lowered his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I would never let you suffer the slightest grievance or harm..."

*Can’t you stop liking him and like me more instead?*

"It's not as dramatic as you're making it sound," Si Jiu smiled, choosing to ignore his subtext. "Anyway, I'm starving. Isn't breakfast ready yet?"

"Charles" gave her a long, deep look, said nothing more, and returned to the kitchen to finish breakfast.

Si Jiu had expected some elaborate delicacy, but in the end, he only served a bowl of egg noodles.

Hmm... the same familiar recipe, the same familiar taste.

Si Jiu’s eyes narrowed in contentment as she ate.

"Charles," appeased by her reaction, visibly relaxed. "You can leave the bowl there when you’re finished; I’ll wash it when I get back. I’m running short on time and must head out now. My apologies, I won't be able to finish the meal with you."

"It's fine. Aren't you eating, though?"

"I don't have much of an appetite." He leaned down and kissed the back of Si Jiu’s hand. "Pardon me for a moment, Your Highness. I will return as soon as possible."

Si Jiu watched "Charles" leave. After finishing the noodles, she washed the bowl anyway.

She hadn't slept enough, and with a full stomach making her drowsy, she curled up on the sofa to pet the dog and began to drift off.

In a state between sleep and wakefulness, she felt a pair of ice-cold hands touching her face.

She hummed in protest, shrinking her neck.

Then, her chin was forcibly gripped, her mouth blocked, and her teeth pried apart.

Cold air ravaged her mouth, chilly yet strangely fervent.

Her waist was tightened, bound, and probed deeply...

Si Jiu let out a muffled sound and bit down hard on the tip of her tongue. As she tasted the blood and felt the sharp pain, she finally snapped her eyes open.

The room before her was empty and silent.

Apart from herself and Mantou, who was curled up in his dog bed, there was no one else in sight.

Frowning, she looked down and lifted the hem of her shirt.

The skin at her waist was as fair as ever, without a single mark.

Yet, a moment ago, she had clearly felt the sensation of a hand gripping her there, painfully tight.