Chapter 97: The Mark of a Kiss

“We’re not doing anything embarrassing, so why lock the door?” Lu Feng asked in confusion.

Su Muyu grumbled inwardly, but it is embarrassing…

“Just lock it. It’d be so awkward if someone suddenly walked in.”

“Alright,” Lu Feng replied nonchalantly. He walked over and locked the door, then returned to the bed and sat behind Su Muyu, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. His fingers slowly traced the flow of her meridians and blood.

As Lu Feng’s hands slipped under her arms and touched her soft skin, Su Muyu shivered. Lu Feng realized the impropriety and paused.

“I… I need to press the Tianxi acupoint on your spleen meridian—it’s not on purpose,” Lu Feng explained.

Su Muyu lowered her head, her face flushed. “I know, it’s fine. Go ahead…”

Only after receiving her consent did Lu Feng continue, massaging her gently through her clothes, still able to feel the delicate texture of her skin.

Last time, he had accidentally seen her bathing, and the sight had left him breathless. He’d imagined how wonderful it would be to hold and caress her. Now, with the opportunity to touch her openly, he couldn’t help but feel his mind wandering.

Spurred on by primal impulses, Lu Feng unconsciously drew her closer, his nose brushing her delicate earlobe, breathing in the faint fragrance of her body mingled with the scent of her shower gel—a subtle aroma that made his breath quicken.

Su Muyu sensed the change in Lu Feng. Hot breaths grazed her neck, collarbone, and the gap at her collar. She felt like she was being stalked by a dangerous beast—her heart resisted, but her body remained frozen, cheeks burning, letting the “beast” have its way.

Images of Su Muyu’s pure, flawless body in the bath flooded Lu Feng’s mind, and her lack of resistance emboldened him. He hugged her tighter, pressed kisses to her cheek and neck—not gently, but with urgent, hungry passion, leaving a red mark on her snowy skin.

“Senior… Senior Brother…” Su Muyu’s heart pounded, torn between fear and nervous excitement as she stammered his title.

Snapping back to his senses, Lu Feng quickly let go, guilt flooding him. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to take advantage of you…”

Though quiet by nature, Su Muyu was sensitive; she immediately caught the anxiety in his voice. Clutching her skirt, she replied softly, “It’s alright, I know you didn’t mean it. But… we can’t… not yet…”

“I understand. What your father said—you don’t need to feel pressured. I won’t force you to marry me. Even if you don’t want to, I’ll still cure your illness first,” Lu Feng replied earnestly.

“That’s not what I meant…” Su Muyu, unsure how to explain, twisted and released her skirt, wrinkling it.

“Then what do you mean?” Lu Feng asked.

“You’re so dense…” Su Muyu muttered anxiously.

“My master says the same, but I don’t think I’m that slow,” Lu Feng replied.

“I’m the one who’s slow! It’s almost mealtime, I should go back.” Su Muyu stood up, and as she reached the door, she caught sight of her reflection in the aluminum frame. Startled, she quickly took out a small mirror from her bag. Her face flushed anew.

The mirror revealed a red mark on her neck where Lu Feng had kissed her—a bruise from a passionate kiss. It would fade in a few days, no real harm done, but the mark was so obvious that if anyone saw it, she’d die of embarrassment.

Seeing Su Muyu checking herself in the mirror by the door, Lu Feng walked over and spotted the mark. “I was too rough… Let me get some medicinal wine to help it fade faster.”

“It’s not about how long it takes to fade. If anyone sees it, I’ll be teased. The girls in my class are terrible gossips,” Su Muyu replied, awkward and shy.

Lu Feng immediately fetched a bandage. “Will a band-aid cover it?”

Su Muyu took the band-aid, peeled off the backing, and tried to apply it herself, craning her neck. But she couldn’t reach the right spot.

“Let me help.” Lu Feng took the band-aid and carefully placed it on her fair neck.

Checking herself in the mirror, Su Muyu still felt awkward, but at least the mark was hidden.

“I’m going home—it’s almost dinner. We’re having wild rice shoots tonight. You’d better come back soon, too,” she said, opening the door and heading out.

“Alright…”

…

At the dinner table of the Ink Fragrance Residence.

Su Muqing always sat beside Su Muyu. While munching on a bamboo shoot, she turned and asked, “Sis, it’s not even cold today—why are you wearing a turtleneck?”

Su Muyu pulled her collar up higher over the band-aid and replied, “You’re always moving around, so you don’t feel cold. I do.”

“Really? But that turtleneck isn’t very flattering,” Su Muqing remarked.

Lu Feng felt a little guilty, keeping his head down as he ate.

Su Dao’an didn’t notice anything amiss between his daughters. Instead, he turned to Lu Feng, “Xiaofeng, I heard you treated someone’s eyes today.”

“Yes, a little boy whose vision was failing,” Lu Feng answered.

“I know you prefer treating illnesses to writing beauty and weight-loss prescriptions,” Su Dao’an said.

“My teacher was descended from the King of Medicine. Of course I want to heal people,” Lu Feng said as if it were obvious.

“I’ve been thinking—should I find you a position at a traditional Chinese medicine hospital?”

“That’s fine,” Lu Feng said, unconcerned.

“It’s just that most hospitals are pretty strict. The best I can do is arrange an intern physician post. Titles take time and seniority,” Su Dao’an explained.

“Titles aren’t that important to me,” Lu Feng replied.

“That’s not the biggest problem. The issue is that as an intern, you must follow the resident physician’s orders. You won’t be allowed to see patients or write prescriptions on your own at first. It’ll take at least a year to become a resident, and even then, you’ll answer to the attending doctors. I worry you won’t be able to stand it,” Su Dao’an said, concerned.

“As long as nothing prevents me from diagnosing and treating patients, I don’t care about the other nonsense.”

Su Muyu, being a medical student, understood the hierarchy and explained, “It’s not like that. Interns work really hard—they can’t see patients on their own, only do what the residents say. Forget about writing prescriptions.”

Lu Feng frowned. “You have to intern for a whole year?”

“Sometimes six months, if you have connections,” Su Dao’an replied.

“Not allowed to treat patients or write prescriptions for a year? What a waste of time,” Lu Feng grumbled.

“If you’re not interested, I have another idea. See if you’re willing to hear it,” Su Dao’an offered.