Lungmen was, in truth, a city where you didn't need to worry too much about public order.
But it was also a city where not worrying about public order was basically impossible.
Li Lin maintained a high level of caution and alertness toward anything that showed up at his door.
After all, the people at Penguin Logistics were simply too good at causing trouble. No matter how many times Li Lin cleaned up after them, no matter how many shifts he pulled standing guard outside, they would always manage to invent some new spectacle—then, as if by routine, pin a massive label on some unfortunate local gangsters, and follow it up with a triumphant group escape.
Sometimes Li Lin genuinely believed Lungmen's punks and criminals must be spawning randomly on a twenty-four-hour timer. Otherwise, how could it be explained that every day someone picked a fight with Penguin Logistics? Every day there was a brawl, and afterward the same standardized "we, XXX, did such-and-such" narrative.
Reality, unfortunately, proved that yes—this was in fact what was happening. And there was nothing Li Lin could do about it.
So "checking whether it contained poison" had also become part of Li Lin's job description.
That said, the morning tea in front of him didn't look like it had been tampered with.
More importantly, it had a tag.
Wearing protective gloves and a mask, Li Lin squatted outside his door and peeled off the label. He looked it over, then frowned in confusion.
"'To you, who will someday bloom'…? My god. From Lungmen to Victoria, from Siracusa to Kazimierz—does this world have anyone who can speak plainly without talking in riddles?"
"…Mmnh…"
Forget it.
Throw it out.
Staring at the elegantly wrapped set of morning tea, Li Lin had no interest in gambling on someone's twisted sense of humor. He tossed it straight down the building's trash chute.
Then he walked back over to the girl sprawled over the sofa—listless, wilted, like she'd physically shrunk.
"You feeling better?"
"Li Lin… my head hurts so much… I feel awful… w-wah… take me away…"
"Isn't that because you slept with your head covered?" Li Lin sighed. "How are you supposed to feel better?"
Watching Exusiai whimper—coughing lightly, reaching out as if to hug him—Li Lin let out a long breath.
No matter how "repressed" he was, he wasn't going to take advantage of someone who looked this unwell.
Yes, he was suppressing a lot. But the baseline condition was that the woman had to be healthy, alive, not seriously ill, and in good shape.
A "cripple fetish" might be someone's thing, sure—but for Li Lin it was still a bit too far. He still thought of himself as a fairly decent human being.
"If you can manage even a little, let's go out for a walk," he said. "It might help you."
"Mm… I don't feel good… I can't walk… I feel like I'm going to throw up…"
"Then sit there with a basin."
"Mm…"
Sniffling, Exusiai slumped at the edge of the sofa, hugging the basin, swaying as if she might topple over at any moment.
And when she saw Li Lin head toward the bathroom, the foggy-headed Exusiai suddenly started tapping the basin and calling out.
"Li Lin! Where are you going? Don't disappear from in front of me!"
"I'm getting you a towel!"
"Oh…"
She obediently accepted the towel. Still looking half-dead, Exusiai sat on the edge of the bed, blankly staring at the towel in her hands—and at the strap that had slipped off her shoulder—then looked at Li Lin with an expectant gaze as he moved around the room preparing medicine.
"Li Lin, help me…"
"Me?" Li Lin stared. "You can't even wipe yourself down?"
"Help me a little…"
"…Fine. I swear I owe you." He held out his hand. "Give it here."
Seeing how weak she looked—boneless, exhausted, nauseated—Li Lin sighed and took the towel, beginning to wipe her down.
He didn't really understand why Sankta reacted like this, but covering the halo did seem to be a very serious matter. If he remembered correctly, even the Lateran gun-knights had to undergo long training before they could fight wearing helmets.
Exusiai, after sleeping with her head covered, was clearly over the line.
She looked like a rag that had been tossed into a centrifugal dryer—completely drained of momentum—letting Li Lin handle her body however he needed.
Shoulders. The back of her neck. Slowly, carefully, he wiped the sweat away, thoroughly cleaning her smooth back.
Each touch drew a slight tremor from her body. In his hands, he could feel that what he held was a living person—not some luxurious fabric.
…Since she trusted him this much, should he just… wipe the front too while he was at it?
The thought flashed through Li Lin's mind as he looked at the pale reddish silhouette quietly allowing him to do as he pleased.
But after finishing her back and thighs, he still abandoned the idea.
To be honest, taking advantage of someone like this was, at least a little, not human.
"The front and your chest," he said, handing the towel back, "I'm not wiping that for you. Do the rest yourself. You'll feel more awake."
"I'll go to the bathroom and get some warm water. Tell me when you're done."
"Okay… I can do it myself…"
Exusiai blinked, then finally nodded gently, lowering her gaze with the towel in her hands.
Li Lin carried a metal basin into the bathroom and turned on the tap, adjusting the temperature. Along with the sound of running water, the faint rustling of fabric and skin being wiped—somehow—kept slipping through the noisy splash of water and reaching straight into his mind.
So repressed.
As he adjusted the water temperature, Li Lin thought sourly.
And at that moment, from outside the bathroom, Exusiai's weak voice called out.
"Hey, Li Lin."
"What is it?"
"Sorry…"
"Even if it's your own fault, you don't need to apologize to me," Li Lin said. "Taking care of you is part of my job as staff. And Mostima asked me to look after you, too."
"Not that…"
Outside the door came the soft sounds of changing clothes. The voice, originally broken and faint, gradually regained a bit of strength.
"I mean… more things. I'm sorry for a lot of things. These days."
"Being taken care of by you… you staying with me for so long… I'm really sorry."
"You're my good friend."
"Ah… yeah."
A friendship card.
Damn it.
Thinking of Exusiai—still weak, still hazy, yet smiling toward him from the other side—Li Lin finally sighed.
What was there even to say?
It wasn't the first time, but every time it happened, Li Lin felt like if he went and cultivated some 'Ice-Heart Art' or whatever, he would've ascended to immortality already.
Fine. He'd already lost the ability to feel sorrow or pain. He wasn't going to be fooled by pretty women again.
This was the last time he'd show mercy.
His heart was steel.
Hearts of steel didn't get moved.
Outside, Exusiai continued softly, completely unconcerned with Li Lin's internal monologue.
"So… are we still going out together?"
"Yes."
....
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