Bo Yi lowered his eyes to the little teacup before him.
"What is it?" The man holding the cup sat down beside the bed, looking at Bo Yi just as he might look at his own picky child who refused to eat. "Still don't want to drink?"
Holding up the cup, Mitian couldn't help coaxing him earnestly. "Be good, listen to me... You really did lose too much blood this time... This will help you recover quickly..."
"Otherwise, just look at yourself. You've left yourself without even the strength to get out of bed... What are you going to do next if you stay like this? We still haven't cleared this Instance..."
But before he could finish, a head leaned toward him, and lips faded pale by blood loss closed around the rim of the cup. With the rim between his lips, Bo Yi raised his eyes and gently arched his brows at him. It was as though... he were mildly reproaching him for standing there in a daze.
The rest of Mitian's words caught in his throat. Only after several seconds did he seem to register what had happened, and he chuckled softly. "Of course, my 'young master'..."
He obediently tilted his hand upward a little.
The scarlet liquid flowed smoothly down Bo Yi's throat as he cooperatively tipped his chin up slightly.
A moment later, his lips, seemingly restored to their former color by the scarlet liquid staining them, slowly left the rim of the cup, leaving only a faint lip print behind.
Mitian drew back his hand and discreetly cupped the teacup in his palm, rubbing his fingers over the spot Bo Yi's lips had touched.
Bo Yi leaned back against the headboard again, his brows gradually relaxing.
As the cup of blood-scented "medicine" went down his