“I won’t go,” he gently assured her. In the dark, his eyes gleamed as bright as the stars in the sky. Smiling down at her, he held out his hand to wipe her tears.
When his slender hand moved downward, intentionally or otherwise, its fingertips brushed across her lips. After making her shudder, he smilingly said, “You are here, where would I go?”
Chen Rong calmed down. She slowly let go of her grasp on his clothes.
Wang Hong also mounted the carriage.
She again clung onto him, ducking her face in his chest. Her arms wound around him, clearly still afraid he would leave her.
Wang Hong lifted her up and gently placed her on his lap. Then, he languidly leaned back against the seat.
Now hugging Chen Rong in a more comfortable position, Wang Hong’s fingers brushed across her cheek to wipe her tears. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore,” he murmured.
“Uhm,” Chen Rong hummed. She buried her face in his arms. “Now that you’re here, I’m not afraid.”
With her arms wrapped around his waist, she lay still in his embrace and felt the warmth emanating from his body. “I had thought I was done for.”
Wang Hong hummed.
Like a chatterbox that had been opened, Chen Rong went on to talk: “There were nine of them. They had blocked my carriage. My carriage was stuck in the mud and wouldn’t budge no matter what. I had thought I was done for.” She sounded terrified.
Wang Hong stroked her hair, comforting: “Everything’s all right now.”
Both his action and words were simple, but they did enough to take away the panic from Chen Rong’s voice and she calmed down on the whole.
She hid in his arms, murmuring: “I even killed one of them! Wang Hong, I killed him with my own hands. I cracked the whip and broke his neck. He had bled so much that his blood was spraying onto me.”