Chapter 73
Volume 1: Chapter 106 Treatment (Second update, belated, on the 25th)
Seeing this, Mostima smiled knowingly and stopped trying to stop him. She crossed her arms, clearly intending to watch a good show—she wanted to see what real skills Han Fei could pull off.
"You're putting a lot of pressure on me by saying that," Han Fei said half-jokingly, deftly taking the green surgical kit out of his chest bag.
"Don't be nervous, relax." Lemuen's voice was like a spring breeze, carrying a comforting power. "Just think of it as a small attempt while we wait. If it doesn't work out, we can always go back to Laterano."
Her beautiful eyes darted around, and she found a square stone platform nearby, gesturing for Mostima to help her over.
Han Fei followed closely behind, casually brushing away the dust from the stone platform for Lemuen.
After Lemuen was seated, Mostima released her hand, stepped aside, and watched her calmly.
Han Fei didn't start immediately. He walked to the side and carefully brushed the dust off his gloves.
Lemuen frowned slightly, her voice tinged with trouble. "That injection you gave me made me feel much better. But now, both my legs are starting to hurt, even my soles are throbbing."
As she spoke, she gently lifted her skirt up to just above her knees, revealing her slender and shapely calves.
"Eat?"
Han Fei, who had just turned around, was stunned when he saw this scene. He thought to himself, "Do I really have to do it myself?"
Seeing that Han Fei remained motionless, Lemuen tilted her head, somewhat puzzled, and asked, "What's wrong?"
Before she could finish speaking, Lemuen realized what she meant and smiled slightly, saying, "Do you expect me, the patient, to do it?"
"Uh... I'll do it," Han Fei replied immediately, his voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible embarrassment.
Lemuen simply smiled faintly, remaining silent. She leaned forward slightly, her movements carrying an unconscious elegance, and took off her shoes.
At this moment, she was not wearing over-the-knee boots, but rather a pair of black tactical shoes suitable for field operations.
She carefully freed her feet and whispered, "My knees and the rest of my body hurt now, even my feet hurt."
As he spoke, Han Fei had already squatted down in front of her.
Lemuen's gaze fell on the man shrouded in a heavy helmet. Although the helmet's shadow obscured his eyes, Lemuen could clearly feel a burning gaze steadily fixed on her legs, especially lingering on her feet.
His gaze seemed to carry a tangible warmth, causing two blushes to involuntarily rise on her fair cheeks.
"Cough."
Lemuen coughed lightly, both as a reminder and to mask her own flustered state, her voice barely a whisper, "Um, there might be a slight odor, you..."
She was too embarrassed to say what followed, and her girlish modesty made her stop abruptly.
"Fine."
Han Fei's voice came through the helmet, calm and resolute, without the slightest hint of frivolity, "It has absolutely nothing to do with it, really."
That calm tone, devoid of any frivolity, acted like an invisible comfort, quietly relaxing Lemuen's tense heartstrings.
She did as instructed, slowly bending her injured leg, her slender fingers reaching towards the edge of her white sock at her ankle.
With a gentle movement of the fingertips, the soft fabric slipped away like flower petals.
A pair of feet, as if carved from jade, were presented to Han Fei without reservation.
Under the lamplight, her skin was a flawless, snow-white radiance, so delicate it seemed untouched by the clamor of the world. The arch of her foot flowed smoothly and gracefully, tracing a breathtaking curve, like God's most satisfying masterpiece. Her dainty toes were rounded and plump, tinged with the delicate pink of newly blossoming cherry blossoms, neatly arranged, her nails trimmed to a clean, rounded shape, gleaming with a soft pearly hue.
However, at this moment, these jade-like feet, which could be described as works of art, were slightly curled inward due to their owner's discomfort, and the toes were also curled up slightly in tension, like shy flower buds bearing invisible pressure.
This curling up was partly due to the clear pain coming from her ankle, which made her unconsciously want to relieve the discomfort.
But another part of it was because she could perceive Han Fei's gaze more clearly—a gaze filled with burning focus, tracing her bare insteps inch by inch, as if carrying a tangible heat that burned all the way up from the soles of her feet, causing her ears to blush.
His gaze held concern, but also an indescribable searching. That focus made her heart tremble, giving her a subtle sense of suffocation that was even more intense than the pain in her ankle.
The shyness and fluttering she felt because of him intertwined silently with the pain in her body, causing her small toes to curl even tighter unconsciously, even slightly inward.
The hand unconsciously kneading the white socks betrayed its owner's chaotic state of mind.
Lemuen tried to remain calm, but her voice trembled slightly as she said, "Then I'll leave it to you."
As she spoke, she subconsciously lowered her gaze to the crumpled white sock in her hand, and felt her face flush even more.
She initially intended to casually toss the socks onto her skirt, but then, blushing, she obediently bent down and carefully stuffed them back into her shoes.
After all, these were socks she'd worn for a while, and they actually did have a smell. Even though Han Fei said it was okay, how could she really be indifferent?
How embarrassing it would be if Han Fei smelled it!
The girl's reserve was getting in the way, Lemuen absolutely could not allow such a thing to happen.
After doing all this, Lemuen straightened up and saw Han Fei take off his gloves.
Noticing Lemuen's gaze, Han Fei casually explained, "The gloves are a bit dirty, covered in dust."
Even though he just patted it off, dust is something that, once it gets on you, can't be cleaned off just by patting it off.
"Um."
Lemuen responded softly, her gaze shifting away somewhat flusteredly.
The next second, a warm and large hand firmly grasped her cold heel, which had never been touched by anyone other than her family.
A strange, surprisingly warm sensation suddenly came from the soles of her feet, Lemuen's body tensed up like a bowstring in that instant, even her curled toes stiffened abruptly.
But then, Han Fei's actions slowly relaxed her tense nerves. He didn't make any unnecessary movements; he simply and quietly treated her foot injury with a tactical surgical kit.
His fingertips, through the gauze, moved with an almost reverent care, wrapping the garment layer by layer with meticulous attention, from the ankle all the way down to the calf.
That careful tenderness was as if it were touching a rare and fragile treasure.
As she relaxed, Lemuen slowly turned her head back.
She looked down at Han Fei, who was squatting in front of her, and could clearly feel his complete focus and the unmistakable sense of cherishing he showed in his gentle movements.
Just by quietly watching his focused profile, Lemuen's tense body completely relaxed, and that familiar, warm, gentle smile quietly reappeared on her lips.
"It's all set here, how does it feel?"
Han Fei finished bandaging her left leg, looked up and asked, his voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible concern.
"Hmm, it doesn't hurt anymore."
Lemuen responded softly, her eyes filled with surprise, "What an amazing surgical kit."
"Right? I told you it would definitely work."
Although his face was obscured by his helmet, Lemuen could almost see the relieved confidence and satisfaction in his eyes.
So he wasn't sure about it from the start... A knowing smile flickered across Lemuen.
Suddenly, she made a move that even surprised herself—she gently lifted her still bare, pink and white right foot, raising that perfect jade foot little by little, and finally, steadily, with a hint of invitation, hovered it in front of Han Fei.
Lemuen blinked, her tone light and playful. "So, I'll leave this to you too?"
Gazing at the flawless, exquisitely sculpted feet so close to his face, the smooth skin and adorable toes radiating a soft glow under the light, for a fleeting moment, an extremely inappropriate, even absurd, thought suddenly flashed into Han Fei's mind:
--Damn it, why do I have such a strong urge to suck on it? Could it be that I'm actually a foot fetishist?
Volume 1: Chapter 107 Heartstrings
Han Fei's Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily. Just a moment ago he had been completely calm, but now he inexplicably felt a dryness in his mouth.
He subconsciously licked his slightly dry lips, then cleared his throat, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tension. "Leave it to me, don't worry."
"Uh-huh?"
A soft hum escaped from Lemuen's nose, and her delicate, pink foot swayed gently, her toes slightly upturned, as if silently urging her on.
"Don't move."
Han Fei reached out and grasped the restless little foot. The moment he touched it, the smooth, tender feel stirred up another wave in his already turbulent heart.
He feigned composure, glanced at Lemuen, and said, "What, doesn't it hurt anymore?"
"It definitely doesn't hurt as much anymore."
Lemuen nodded slightly, a pleased smile curving her lips. "So, how long are you going to hold on?"
Before she finished speaking, her curled toes suddenly curled inward slightly, with a ticklish force, and quickly rubbed against the most sensitive spot on Han Fei's palm.
This small, imperceptible gesture instantly froze Han Fei's body.
He subconsciously looked at Lemuen, and their eyes met in mid-air. Han Fei clearly caught the playful look in Lemuen's eyes.
Holy crap, you two-faced bastard, you did it on purpose, didn't you!
For a fleeting moment, a thought flashed through Han Fei's mind—I don't care about this or that, I'll just suck it first!
But before he could put this idea into practice, Han Fei dismissed it himself.
He could feel the gazes coming from his sides and behind him—the gazes of Mostima and Texas.
Even if Han Fei were shameless, he wouldn't do anything to Lemuen in front of the two girls.
And it was clear from Lemuen's expression that she knew this too, which was why she dared to secretly tease Han Fei.
"Hmm, what's wrong?"
Lemuen blinked innocently, as if the person who had been secretly flirting with Han Fei just now had nothing to do with her.
Han Fei didn't say anything, but he gave him a look that clearly said: You just wait.
Lemuen's eyes crinkled with a wider smile. She didn't retort, but her delicate pink toes began to stir restlessly again.
Like a little kitten, it secretly scratched Han Fei's palm again and again.
The subtle tickling sensation in his palm was like a feather scratching at his heart. Han Fei took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the strange turmoil in his heart and the restless thought of "revenge." He tightened his knuckles slightly, with an undeniable, even slightly warning, force, firmly holding the mischievous little foot in place.
"If you move again, don't blame me if the bandage gets crooked."
His voice came through the mask, a few decibels lower than usual, with a deliberately serious tone.
The smile in Lemuen's eyes almost overflowed; she could, of course, detect the feigned composure and the undercurrent of emotion beneath.
However, she also knew when to stop. Her playful little foot finally calmed down and obediently let him do as he pleased, though a hint of smugness remained on her curled toes.
Han Fei's movements were a few times faster than when he bandaged his left leg, yet he still maintained that focus and gentleness.
The material of the green surgical pack quickly and neatly wrapped around that fair and slender right foot and calf, isolating it from the alluring pink color and tempting touch.
Once the last layer of gauze was secured, Han Fei almost immediately released his grip, as if the warm touch still carried a lingering heat.
He stood up and subtly moved his somewhat stiff finger joints.
"Alright."
Han Fei spoke succinctly, his gaze sweeping over Lemuen's mischievous smile before quickly shifting elsewhere, "Both sides are dealt with. How does it feel?"
"That's awesome!"
Lemuen didn't hold back her praise, practically wearing "You're amazing!" on her face. "Our Han Fei is so skillful! I'll reward you handsomely when we get back to Laterano!"
Han Fei turned his head, rolled his eyes at Lemuen, and said, "So, you're rewarding me with a Cactus Tart, huh?"
"If you want to eat it, that's not impossible."
As Lemuen spoke, she bent down, took out a pair of white socks from her shoes, and slowly put them on.
Han Fei glanced at it discreetly, then quickly looked away. He reached up and took off his helmet, shook his head as if he were exhausted, and said, "Has Fiammetta not returned yet?"
"It should be soon, right?"
Lemuen patted the stone platform beneath her and said, "Sit down for a while. You've been busy for so long, you must be tired."
Han Fei, without any pretense, plopped down next to Lemuen and said, "I'm fine, but what about you guys?"
As he spoke, his gaze swept over Mostima and Texas.
Texas shook her head slightly and said softly, "I'm not tired."
Mostima shrugged and said, "We'll spend the night here. I'll take over the watch later."
She paused, her gaze falling on Lemuen's leg, and said, "If your leg is really alright, then there's no need to rush. We can get it checked out tomorrow after we get back to Laterano."
"My leg really doesn't hurt anymore," Lemuen replied.
"Then we'll spend the night here."
Mostima said, glancing at Texas leaning against the wall, "Could you do me a favor? Let's go unload the supplies from the truck together."
As she spoke, she glanced at Han Fei, then looked away and continued to Texas, "Your boss has been busy for a long time, so don't make him work any harder. Let him rest for a while."
"Good."