Chapter 84: The Voice of His Heart

Zhong Xiao lowered her eyes for a glance; the spot bitten open earlier had begun to bleed again. While murmuring, “It’s nothing, really,” she made as if to put her finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding.

But Song Tingshen reached out and stopped her.

He took hold of her wrist and said, “That’s not sanitary. We have antiseptic and bandages at home; I’ll go get them for you.”

As he spoke, a drop of blood from Zhong Xiao’s finger trickled down, landing precisely on the base of Song Tingshen’s thumb. He glanced at it but said nothing more, turning to leave Zhong Xiao’s bedroom.

He was probably off to fetch the supplies.

But just before he left, Zhong Xiao heard him say, “I wonder if she can bear this pain.”

She was just about to reply, “I can handle it,” but saw that Song Tingshen had already descended the stairs.

It seemed that last remark hadn’t been addressed to her.

She found it a little odd, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why, and decided not to dwell on it.

Two minutes later, Song Tingshen returned with the supplies, pausing at her bedroom door.

“May I come in?”

Zhong Xiao was sitting at her vanity, cleaning the wound, and turned at his words. “Of course, come in.”

Although Song Tingshen had been in this room before, since Zhong Xiao moved in, he had avoided it out of propriety and caution. This was his first time entering.

He sat beside her, placing the supplies on the vanity.

“Her room smells so nice, and so does she—her hair, too…”

Zhong Xiao froze.

That was unmistakably Song Tingshen’s voice.

Yet she hadn’t seen him open his mouth.

And with what she knew of him, Song Tingshen was not the type to say such things.

She stared at him, perplexed. Seemingly sensing her gaze, Song Tingshen lifted his eyes to meet hers.

Their gazes met; his expression was as calm and composed as ever, betraying no emotion.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” he asked.

Zhong Xiao shook her head quickly.

Looking at Song Tingshen’s impassive face, a sudden thought jolted her.

She remembered, when he’d grabbed her wrist, her blood had landed on the base of his thumb.

…Could it be that what she was hearing now were Song Tingshen’s thoughts?

She looked at him in astonishment, unable to imagine that such words had come from someone as solemn and proper as Song Tingshen.

For a moment, Zhong Xiao didn’t know how to react. All she could do was sit dazedly, letting Song Tingshen tend to her wound.

The iodine was wrapped in cotton, gently and evenly applied to her finger.

“Her hand is so soft—softer than I’d imagined.”

“How can Xiaoxiao be so adorable?”

“She got hurt and didn’t say a word, didn’t complain while I changed the dressing. Xiaoxiao is so obedient.”

Hearing Song Tingshen’s inner voice constantly ringing in her ears, Zhong Xiao felt as if she might faint from the onslaught.

Looking at his serious, even expressionless face—it was all too much of a contrast.

“Does it hurt?” Song Tingshen asked aloud.

“It doesn’t, it doesn’t,” Zhong Xiao replied at once.

It was no wonder she could instantly tell which words were his thoughts and which were spoken aloud.

The difference was glaring—painfully obvious.

Song Tingshen’s inner voice was nothing like his spoken tone. Outwardly, he was dignified, reserved, his voice deep and formal.

His thoughts, though… were in a tone that almost sounded as if he were speaking in a falsetto.

Zhong Xiao drew in a deep breath.

She suddenly realized she may have never truly understood Song Tingshen.

—

“How did Xiaoxiao get hurt? Could there be something sharp on the furniture?”

“I told Mother before, if Xiaoxiao is going to stay in this room, we ought to buy some new furniture—these pieces are all old.”

“It’s my fault. I’ve been too busy. I should’ve made time to do it myself.”

“Xiaoxiao got hurt—all because of me.”

Zhong Xiao: …She could hardly get used to Song Tingshen calling her “Xiaoxiao” in his thoughts.

After applying the bandage, Song Tingshen stood up and said gravely, “All set. It should be fine now. Let’s go—Father and Mother are downstairs.”

Zhong Xiao remained in a daze, unresponsive, as though lost in some emotion.

Frowning, Song Tingshen called her name again.

“Comrade Zhong Xiao?”

Only then did she snap out of it, standing up at once and giving him a look both strange and uncertain.

On one side, he was calling her “Xiaoxiao” in a falsetto; on the other, he was sternly using “Comrade Zhong Xiao.”

Zhong Xiao forced herself to remain calm.

There were more important matters to attend to right now.

—

When they reached the living room, Zuo Lan and Song Qingfeng were already seated on the sofa.

Seeing her, Zuo Lan rose with a smile.

“Xiaoxiao, did you eat well tonight? There were so many people—were you frightened?”

Zhong Xiao shook her head. “I ate plenty.”

Song Tingshen’s voice echoed in her ears again.

“She really did eat a lot—didn’t think Xiaoxiao had such an appetite. Eating well is a blessing.”

Zhong Xiao’s expression was blank.

She was already coming to terms with the fact that she could hear Song Tingshen’s thoughts, and could easily distinguish, by his tone and the use of “Xiaoxiao,” whether it was his inner voice or what he was saying aloud.

So she ignored Song Tingshen and turned to Song Qingfeng.

“Commander Song, I have something to report.”

“I suspect that Comrade Yuan Tianqing from the military hospital is an enemy agent.”

At her words, both Zuo Lan and Song Qingfeng’s faces changed instantly.

They exchanged a glance, disbelief evident in their eyes.

It wasn’t the suspicion of Yuan Tianqing that shocked them, but Zhong Xiao herself.

That she had seen through the real purpose of tonight’s gathering.

Only Song Qingfeng’s immediate family and a few trusted confidants knew the truth, yet the first to report it was an outsider like Zhong Xiao.

“Xiaoxiao, tell us your reasons and thoughts,” Zuo Lan asked.

Had it been at the beginning, Zuo Lan might not have believed her. After all, Yuan Tianqing, like Hou Manling, was a head nurse personally trained by Zuo Lan, who had followed her through life and death for years.

But after Zhong Xiao’s discovery about Moon Lake Island and her handling of the plague, Zuo Lan naturally trusted her words more.

Zhong Xiao said plainly:

“When Comrade Hou Manling accidentally knocked over the serving tray, Comrade Yuan Tianqing was the first to drop to her knees and clean up the mess. You might not have noticed her movements, but I did.”

As she spoke, Zhong Xiao demonstrated:

“She first gathered her clothes with both hands, then brought her arms down at the same time, legs together, and when kneeling, her toes splayed apart, bending to clean.”

“That motion—I once saw in a restaurant run by islanders. The servers there always served and cleaned in just that way.”

“After the movement began, that restaurant was closed down, and those islanders disappeared. But I’m certain—the way Comrade Yuan Tianqing knelt to clean tonight was exactly the same as those servers I once saw.”