Huang Rong curled up beneath the blankets, her face alternating between pale and flushed as she clearly waged an intense internal struggle. After a long while, she finally sighed. "All right, I'll trouble you."
Seeing her agree so readily, Song Qingshu was instead somewhat surprised. He sat down on the bed and reached out to pull back her blanket.
"What are you doing?" Huang Rong recoiled like a startled rabbit, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself as she stared at him warily.
Song Qingshu was equally taken aback by her reaction. "How am I supposed to clear your blocked meridians through a blanket?"
Huang Rong realized he had a point. Biting her lip, she said softly, "Wait a moment." Then she burrowed entirely beneath the blanket, and soon the rustling of clothes could be heard. She had undone her undergarment to apply a hot compress earlier, so naturally she could not expose herself before him like that.
Song Qingshu was somewhat helpless as well. Still, he knew she would never present herself to him unclothed, so he could only let her do as she wished.
After a while, Huang Rong finally said with a red face, "All right." She slowly lifted the blanket, though not all the way, leaving it over her lower abdomen and legs as though it gave her a little more sense of security.
As far as Song Qingshu could see, she had wrapped herself up tightly. Yet the more she did so, the more it emphasized how stunning her figure was, as though even a slightly hurried breath might burst free of those straps above.
"The cause of your illness is blocked breast milk, trapped inside. It should have room to remain comfortable, but you've bound it so tightly. Aren't you only making the condition worse?"