Hong Kong variety show: From being bitten by a cockroach to becoming a legend

Chapter 43: Jade Feet

"Don't move."

Her shoes were taken off, and when his fingertips touched the skin of her ankle, Fang Min tensed up all over, her cheeks burning hot.

Fang Min's feet didn't have any strange sour smell; on the contrary, they were quite pleasing to the eye.

Her small feet were completely exposed to the cool air and to Song Zhaowen's gaze.

The girl's feet were delicate and slender, with skin on the instep so white it was almost transparent, revealing pale blue veins underneath.

The five toes were slightly curled due to tension and pain, the toenails were neatly trimmed and had a healthy pale pink hue. The bone lines of the ankle were smooth and beautiful, but at this moment, a noticeable lump had swollen up on the outside of the joint, and the surrounding skin was an unnatural red.

"Hmm..." Fang Min couldn't help but let out a soft groan of pain, her fingers gripping the rough cement edge of the flower bed tightly.

Song Zhaowen's fingers had thin calluses, and the touch was a little rough when pressed, mixed with pain and a strange shiver that made her scalp tingle.

"Does it hurt here?" He pressed his thumb on a spot on the outside of his ankle.

"...It hurts." Fang Min bit her lower lip and nodded.

"And here?" He moved to a different spot.

"A little bit."

Song Zhaowen gently moved her ankle again to observe her reaction. "It shouldn't be a bone injury, just a ligament sprain."

Song Zhaowen took off his thin coat and spread it on the ground, then gestured for Fang Min to put her injured foot on it to elevate it.

Then, he took her ankle back in his hand, his palm covering the swollen area.

Fang Min's body trembled again.

"I'll massage it in for you, otherwise it will be even more swollen tomorrow, and you might not be able to walk for several days," Song Zhaowen explained, to avoid Fang Min misunderstanding that he was deliberately taking advantage of her.

"It will hurt a little, just bear with it."

Song Zhaowen's large, warm palm completely enveloped Fang Min's slender ankles.

At first, I simply warmed my palms and let the tense muscles relax slowly.

Fang Min could feel the warmth of his palm and his steady pulse through her skin, which strangely calmed some of her panic.

Then, he began to massage in circles around the swelling with his thumb. The pressure gradually increased, his technique skillful; he first cleared the edges, then slowly pushed towards the center where the blood was pooled.

"Hiss..." The pain struck, and Fang Min gasped for breath, her toes curling up and her calf muscles tensing.

"Relax," Song Zhaowen said softly, gently pressing her calf with his other hand. "The more tense you are, the more it will hurt."

Fang Min tried to take deep breaths and relax, but with little effect.

On one hand, there was pain, and on the other hand... there was an indescribable sense of embarrassment and strangeness.

Her feet were being held in a man's hands and gently massaged.

In the dim light, one could clearly see his lowered eyebrows, thick eyelashes, straight nose, and pursed lips that seemed somewhat aloof.

Song Zhaowen's profile has strong features, but his expression at this moment is unexpectedly focused and gentle.

Fang Min was completely mesmerized.

When Song Zhaowen looked up, Fang Min hurriedly turned her head away, not daring to meet his gaze. Her face was flushed and she looked incredibly cute.

Perhaps to hide her embarrassment, she asked, "Brother Wen, how...how could you do this?"

"I learned it at a martial arts school before."

"Oh..." Fang Min didn't know what else to say, and dared not peek at Song Zhaowen again, so she looked away and stared at the flashing neon sign in the distance.

The pain in my ankle gradually subsided after he massaged and pressed it, transforming from a sharp, stabbing pain into a dull, aching ache, and then slowly dissipated, making it seem less uncomfortable.

But the feeling of being touched became clearer and clearer.

As the calloused pad of his thumb grazed the most delicate skin on the instep and ankle, it brought waves of subtle, tingling numbness.

Fang Min's heart was pounding; in the quiet night, she could almost hear her own heart pounding.

After an unknown amount of time, Song Zhaowen stopped what he was doing.

The swelling is still there, but it seems to have subsided a little, and the redness around the skin has faded somewhat.

"Are you feeling better?"

Fang Min tried to move her ankle gently. Although it still hurt, it was indeed more flexible than before: "Hmm... much better."

Song Zhaowen picked up her socks, preparing to help her put them on.

Fang Min quickly reached out her hand: "I...I can do it myself!"

"Don't move." Song Zhaowen avoided her hand, naturally took her foot, carefully put her socks back on, and then her shoes, carefully tying the shoelaces.

Throughout the process, his fingers inevitably touched the instep and sole of her feet, and each touch made Fang Min's ears burn.

After putting on his shoes, Song Zhaowen stood up and dusted off his hands: "Try to see if you can walk, but be careful."

Fang Min braced herself against the edge of the flower bed and carefully stood up, tentatively touching the ground with her right foot. It still hurt, and she couldn't put any weight on it, so she limped.

Song Zhaowen glanced at her pained expression, turned around, and squatted down with his back to her.

"Come up."

"Huh?" Fang Min was stunned.

"I'll carry you back. There's still a long way to go, you can't walk like this."

"No...no need, Brother Wen, it's too much trouble for you. I'll hold onto the wall and slowly..." Fang Min's face turned red again, this time even her neck turned pink.

"Or would you like me to carry you back?" Song Zhaowen turned his head to the side, and in the dim light, the corners of his mouth seemed to curve slightly. "Choose one."

Fang Min was speechless for a moment, her face burning even more. She looked at her swollen ankle, then at Song Zhaowen's broad and sturdy back, bit her lip, and finally slowly and extremely embarrassedly lay down on him.

Fang Min loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, trying not to get too close to him.

Song Zhaowen, however, seemed to have little patience to wait for her to adjust her posture. He directly supported her knees and stood up steadily.

"Ah!" Fang Min gasped as her body suddenly levitated, instinctively tightening her arms and pressing herself against his back. The warmth of his masculine body, carrying a faint scent of tobacco and soap, instantly enveloped her, penetrating through the thin fabric, solid and warm.

Hold on tight.

Fang Min was initially stiff and dared not move. But as he walked steadily forward, she gradually relaxed. His back was broad, and he walked very steadily, so she could hardly feel the bumps.

Her chin would occasionally brush against his shoulder blade, which felt hard.

With my cheek pressed against the fabric of his back, I could hear his steady, powerful heartbeat and the slight rise and fall of his back muscles as he breathed.

The shock, pain, and embarrassment she had felt earlier seemed to slowly fade away in the comfort of carrying her on her back. An unprecedented sense of security quietly enveloped her.

Of course, the sensations are mutual, and Song Zhaowen could also feel the pair of purses on his back that were already taking shape, soft yet resilient.

Fang Min was only five years old when Fang Jinxin died. She lacked fatherly love from a young age, and she herself did not know that she was actually powerless against strong and domineering men.