Martial King's Retired Life

Shen Yiren gently lowered Ming Feizhen’s head onto her pillowy thighs. In the moment, he completely forgot to breathe.

Ming Feizhen tilted his chin up. “Ah.”

Shen Yiren gently spoon fed – literally – Ming Feizhen. She clearly wasn’t used to feeding people based on how clumsy her movements were. “Seriously, can’t you feed yourself?”

“No. My injury’s medical name is will-starve-to-death-if-not-fedsease. Boss, ah.”

Ming Feizhen received another mouthful of food. He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced a taste – and the warmth – of heaven. He opened his eyes, where he saw skin comparable to a peeled boiled egg out the corners of his eyes. Perhaps not even deities in heaven were as blessed as he was.

Shen Yiren avoided fitting garments from the age of fourteen, opting for clothes that fit loosely and then tying up the section around her abdomen. She would ask the tailors to produce her clothes larger than average so that her mobility wouldn’t be hindered. However, since she bought her current robe while on the go, she couldn’t have it customised. If Mountain Monster were to wear it, not only would there be wrinkles all over, but she’d resemble a coat hanger from the front. On Shen Yiren, to the contrary, skin would pop out while she was moving around in a seated position. The most alluring part about Shen Yiren’s beauty was that she was oblivious to her own blessings, which highlighted her natural charm.

Ming Feizhen pinched his nose before blood started spurting from there and rolled onto his side.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” Ming Feizhen cleared his throat as he recited scriptures in his mind. “Boss, I request an extra duty at Liu Shan Men.”

“What?”

“Dressmaking. I want to be your personal tailor.”

Shen Yiren wrinkled her nose in confusion and replied, “Sure, if you know how to make clothes. I always need to have my clothing modified outside the office, so you’d be saving me extra work if you know how to. Once you’ve healed… modify this set for me. It’s a little… stuffy.”

Shen Yiren wrinkled her face as though it really did bother her.

“I’ll do my best. Happiness has come so suddenly.”

“???”

Shen Yiren gently blew the next spoonful of food and fed Ming Feizhen again. She was both glad and relieved to see him enjoying the food.

Most people assumed Shen Yiren was good at taking care of people, when that couldn’t have been further from the truth. She, after all, never really lived the life of an ordinary maiden. Shen Kuang was fantastic at taking care of people, on the other hand. When he fell ill one time as a kid, his sister poured boiling medicine into his mouth, had chilli rubbed onto his feet, green onions… Long-story short, after experiencing near death, he did his best to develop independence and to take care of his health, lest his sister have to “take care” of him. While Shen Yiren was happy her brother had so much initiative, she regretted missing out on opportunities to develop the skills to take care of another.

“I must warn you that I’m not good at taking care of people, so don’t complain.”

Afraid that she’d repeat the same mistakes from the past, Shen Yiren was careful with everything she did. It might’ve been a trivial task to some, but she treated it with the integrity of a young girl trying to help out at home, putting an upward curve on the corners of Ming Feizhen’s lips. He ate mouthful after mouthful without thinking as he was completely enamoured with watching her face.

Upon meeting eyes with Ming Feizhen, Shen Yiren questioned, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I like watching you.”

Shen Yiren’s hand and mind froze. Her reaction made Ming Feizhen realise what he said. Suddenly, the room temperature shot up, and their mouths felt awfully dry.

“No, no, what I meant to say was that I’m feeling a little sleepy, yeah, sleepy, y-you know, feel like sleeping, ahaha.”

“Oh, right, right. Okay, sleep. I’ll stay by your side.”

Shen Yiren was totally oblivious to her poor choice of words. Only once she read the surprise in Ming Feizhen’s gaze did she slowly feel her cheeks being seared while her brain overheated. Shaking her head frantically, she exclaimed, “No, no, I meant that I’ll stay with you! No, I mean, I’ll stay next to you while you sl-, you’re annoying me! Are you going to sleep or not?!”

“Of course. Of course. I’ll sleep now. Boss, will you… keep me company?”

“Close your eyes!”

Ming Feizhen did as he was told. How was he going to sleep when Shen Yiren was still holding the bowl with food still in it, though?

Shen Yiren flinched as her heart beat faster and skin burned. Ming Feizhen, naturally, could feel her trembles through her thighs.

“Wh-what?”

“I… suddenly can’t fall asleep.”

Shen Yiren patted her chest in relief, puzzling Ming Feizhen. “I-I see. I shall sing you a song, then.”

“Stay your voice! We’re not enemies!”

With her head slightly angled and mouth slightly open, Shen Yiren asked, “You saying I’m a bad singer?”

“Uh…” Ming Feizhen almost shook his head, but he thought it was better not to gamble with his life, so he nodded, “Mm.”

Shen Yiren pouted, then shoved a spoonful of food into Ming Feizhen’s mouth. “Eat your food!”

Ming Feizhen was more than happy to eat more and talk less. If Shen Yiren was too busy feeding him, she wouldn’t remember to ask how Gongsun Chu kidnapped him.

Shen Yiren set the big bowl onto the table beside the bed once Ming Feizhen was done and seemed to be in high spirits. The brothers’ fib didn’t fool her; for a moment, she did consider dragging him out of bed when they tried to fool her until she spotted the scar on his shoulder. She didn’t need to be a doctor to tell that it was new. Therefore, she decided against yelling at him and sat down next to his bed.