Ten, do not call me Fatty Girl.

By the time Jiang Mochen’s wounds had been tended to, it was already midday. The old physician tossed the bloodied gauze back onto his tray. “Chubby girl, wipe the blood off his back for him.”

Chubby girl?!

He actually called her chubby girl!

Su Wan bristled instantly. “You could just call me girl—why add ‘chubby’ in front?”

The old physician looked her up and down and retorted, “Are you not chubby?”

Su Wan gritted her teeth in annoyance. “That doesn’t mean you should say it!”

The old man couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, I’ll stop calling you chubby girl. I’ll call you skinny girl from now on.”

Skinny girl sounded even stranger. Did this old man not know how to speak properly?

Su Wan shot him an exasperated glare, then turned to pick up an alcohol-soaked gauze to clean Jiang Mochen’s back.

Jiang Mochen removed his outer garment, revealing a strong, well-defined torso.

After several days apart, Su Wan once again saw the tattoo on his neck. His skin was pale from blood loss, making the tattoo stand out even more vividly.

Noticing Su Wan’s gaze, Jiang Mochen instinctively reached up to cover that patch of skin.

Su Wan realized she’d overstepped and quickly lowered her head, circling behind him to wipe his back.

His back was broad and smooth, the lines between his shoulder blades and spine powerful and filled with masculine allure and wild energy.

But as her eyes moved downward, she was startled by a tangle of old, crisscrossing scars.

Su Wan paused for a moment, then quickly composed herself and pressed the alcohol-soaked gauze to his back.

The coolness caused Jiang Mochen to shudder involuntarily.

Su Wan’s hand moved swiftly across his broad back, lightening her touch over the scars, but her heart was still shaken.

Those scars looked as if he’d been whipped with bamboo sticks or lashes—some thick, some thin, layered atop each other, with calluses built up in places.

Su Wan was deeply shocked—what had this man gone through?

Her gaze began to roam, searching for more clues. Aside from his back, several triangular hypertrophic scars dotted his lower waist.

Just as Su Wan was lost in thought, a rough hand suddenly grabbed hers, stopping her with the gauze.

Jiang Mochen looked at her, somewhat helpless. “The alcohol’s dripping into my pants.”

Only then did Su Wan realize she’d been standing still so long that all the alcohol had run down his back and soaked into his trousers.

“Oh, sorry.” She quickly grabbed a dry gauze to wipe him, not noticing where her hands wandered over his body.

When she looked up, Jiang Mochen’s face was flushed with embarrassment.

The old physician, unaware, emerged from the pharmacy and glanced at them. “Is it hot? Why is your face red?”

Jiang Mochen quickly turned away and pulled on his clothes. “It is a bit hot.”

Hearing this, the old doctor gave Su Wan another teasing look. “You’re not hot? Chubby folks should feel the heat more than skinny ones.”

Su Wan: …Wasn’t he supposed to stop calling her chubby girl?

He was doing it on purpose!

“I’ll lose weight!” Su Wan fumed.

She paid the bill in a huff, grabbed Jiang Mochen, and strode out. She couldn’t stand another moment in that place.

Just as they reached the door, the infuriating old physician hollered after her, “See you, chubby girl!”

Su Wan glared back, but the old man wasn’t looking at her—his eyes lingered on Jiang Mochen’s back.

Following his gaze, Su Wan saw that Jiang Mochen’s trousers were soaked, the fabric clinging to his skin and revealing suggestive curves.

… Su Wan’s face reddened instantly, and she hurried out of the clinic.

“Um, your trousers are wet—shouldn’t you cover up?” she whispered once they were alone.

Jiang Mochen was puzzled. “They’ll dry soon.”

“No, I mean, people might see,” Su Wan said, blushing and turning away.

Jiang Mochen frowned, not understanding. “Let them see.”

He was a grown man—what was there to be shy about?

Su Wan sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead. She kept her gaze straight ahead, determined to ignore it.

They walked side by side down the road.

Suddenly, a furtive figure darted out of the woods, legs spread wide like a compass, blocking their way and staring intently at them.

“Su Wan?!”

Su Wan turned at the call, spotting Wang Luo’s aunt craning her neck from the other side.

“Well, well! It’s really you!”

“You shameless woman! Caught you again, haven’t I?!”

She glanced around, then raised her voice, shouting, “Come see! Su Wan’s fooling around with that opera singer again!”

The villagers were idle; hearing the commotion, they dropped their farm tools and rushed over.

Wang Luo’s aunt plopped down on the ground and wailed, “Oh, what a black-hearted girl!”

“My poor nephew! His fiancée is always messing around outside.”

She wiped her tears. “I must tell my poor sister-in-law to have Su Wan checked at the hospital before letting her marry in—don’t let her bring a bastard child into our Wang family.”

That was serious. Everyone present changed expression.

A woman hefting a hoe frowned deeply. She’d had run-ins with Wang Luo’s aunt before—her tongue was sharp enough to turn black into white.

Last time, though it was clearly Wang Luo’s aunt’s fault, she’d managed to pin the blame on her. So the old woman disliked Wang Luo’s aunt and didn’t believe her words.

“They’re just walking down the road—how’d it turn into talk of bastard children?”

“Oh, you don’t know. Just days ago, I saw them by the river; Su Wan was riding that opera singer, kissing and pressing him.”

At that, the old aunt who’d been about to defend Su Wan shut her mouth.

Su Wan was exasperated. “Wasn’t that all cleared up? I was saving him. The village chief was there and told you not to stir up trouble—why are you making a scene again?”

Mentioning this made Wang Luo’s aunt furious. Because of it, she’d been gossiped about behind her back for days, everyone calling her a ‘troublemaker,’ to the point she avoided interacting with people.

Surely Su Wan wasn’t saving someone again today?

She had to restore her reputation.

Wang Luo’s aunt rolled her eyes, about to speak, when suddenly a bicycle bell rang from down the road.

Wang Luo was riding up.

Before he could even stop, his aunt rushed over like she’d seen a savior, scrambling to grab his leg.

“Ah Luo, thank goodness you’re here—your fiancée is bullying me.”

The crowd exchanged glances. Someone whispered, “When did Su Wan ever bully her?”

“That’s right. Wang Luo’s aunt isn’t trustworthy—better to keep your distance.”

…

But Wang Luo’s aunt paid no mind to what others thought. Clinging to Wang Luo’s leg, she began to cry and complain, “Su Wan isn’t behaving—she’s fooling around with the opera singer. Auntie only said a few words for you and she… sob sob…”

Suddenly, she wailed loudly, as if Su Wan had committed some heinous crime against her.

“Ah Luo, you must do something—don’t let her run wild!”

She wiped her tears again, then shot Su Wan a triumphant glare.

Heh, just wait—Wang Luo will surely stand by his aunt’s side. Who does Su Wan think she is?