After about a hundred feet or so, she could faintly see bloodstains on the ground. Meng Wu pushed aside the sorghum leaves, and there lay a man covered in blood.
So she had spotted him a while ago.
Moving even a little was excruciating for him. He was like a bloody mess, only his eyes could shift slightly, as he lifted his eyelids to look at Meng Wu.
Meng Wu looked back at him for a moment, then silently pulled the sorghum leaves back over him to cover him up, acting as if she hadn’t seen anything, and actually turned around to leave.
Behind her came two quiet, muffled coughs, and Yin Heng said： “You definitely saw me.”
Meng Wu said： “I didn’t see a thing.”
“I’m about to die.”
Meng Wu： “None of my business.”
Yin Heng paused for a moment, then said： “Don’t you want to see what I look like？”
Meng Wu stopped at these words.
I have to admit, that line really did successfully pique Meng Wu’s interest... after all, her life motto was—judge people by their face first.
Yin Heng added, "Maybe he's even good-looking."
She turned around and took another look at the blood-soaked man under the green leaves; his face was covered in blood and grime, with not a trace of aesthetics about him.
Meng Wu asked, "Where do you get your confidence？"
Alright, she admitted, she was a bit curious.
Yin Heng lured her step by step, saying, "You can come over and verify for yourself."
While she was dealing with Wang Xishun, he had been lying here listening in. Meng Wu's few words couldn't escape the topic of beauty; she must be someone who cares about appearances.
So he could hit her weak spot in just a few words.
Meng Wu could also tell that he was severely injured. If he continued to be abandoned here unattended, he might not last two more days.
Though she couldn't see his face clearly for now, he had a pair of light-colored eyes—somewhat cold and indifferent, yet extremely attractive.
So Meng Wu walked toward him again and said, "For the sake of your eyes being quite nice, I'll take you to wash your face first."
This made her intention very clear: if after washing his face she found he was indeed good-looking, she might take care of him. If he wasn't up to standard, she definitely wouldn't bother.
Yin Heng was speechless. For the first time in his life, he had to rely on his face to save his life.
But for now, other than going along with her words, there was no other way out of this predicament.
However, when Meng Wu got closer to him, she discovered that his injuries were even more severe than she had imagined.
The blood covering his body aside, Meng Wu made a preliminary examination of his condition—external wounds covered his entire body, and even his legs were broken.
She casually felt his pulse; it was extremely weak. She said in surprise, "You've got a tough life; you haven't kicked the bucket even in this state."
If she left him here unattended, given his current condition, he might not even make it through tonight, let alone two more days.
No wonder the only part of him that could move was his eyeballs.
Little did she realize, the clods of dirt shot out from behind the sorghum leaves had nearly drained the last shred of strength he had left.
Yin Heng, however, spoke softly, “Maybe I was barely hanging on just so I could wait for you to come.”
Meng Wu was like a completely different person before and after dealing with Wang Xishun — she wasn't simple either. Right now, she might be the only one who could save him.
With injuries this severe, he simply couldn't be moved around casually. But Meng Wu still hadn't given up on the idea of washing his face for him, so she left him there for a moment and went to find some water.
According to the original owner's memories, with this large a sorghum field, there should be a reservoir between the dry fields to make irrigation easier.
Meng Wu quickly made her way to a nearby reservoir.
Around the pool grew lush green grass, and the light and shadows reflected in the water were crystal clear and bright.
She tore a piece of fabric from her clothes, drew some water, then turned back to go to Yin Heng's side and wipe his face.
It was as if she were cleaning a long-dusty work of art — and hoping that it would turn out to be a beautiful one.
First the forehead, then the brows and eyes, the bridge of the nose, all the way down.
His face gradually revealed its natural skin tone, but it was extremely pale. That pair of brows and eyes looked like ink wash paintings, his pupils were a pale amber, his nose stood tall like a mountain ridge, and his bloodless lips were still very charming...
Holy mother of god, this was a gorgeous man.
She'd just taken one extra look at her opponent before and gotten herself killed; was this guy supposed to be compensation for that？
Meng Wu clicked her tongue in excitement and exclaimed, “Whoever did this to you must have been ruthless. How could they bear to hurt such a good-looking person this badly?”
Yin Heng closed his eyes and said weakly, “They're just jealous of me.”
With a simple "Jealous of me," he brushed off this heart-pounding kill that had happened to him.
Because of his face, Meng Wu's attitude shifted significantly, and she asked, "How long have you been lying here？ Are you hungry？"
"A day and a half."
"Then you must be very hungry. Replenish your strength first."
As she said this, Meng Wu snapped off a stalk of sorghum, bit open the hard outer shell, and handed him the water-logged inner core, saying, "Chew it, it's sweet."
Yin Heng didn't move; he didn't have the strength to move.
Meng Wu caught on and gave a laugh with an unreadable meaning, seizing the chance to take advantage： "Let me kiss you once, and I'll help you."