"What are you doing?"
The bone-chilling, low voice fell upon Lie Fengzi like a bucket of ice water, leaving her stiff and trembling, her pupils widening as she struggled to breathe.
His gaze was truly like that of a venomous Asura from hell, rciless and fierce.
It sent a chill through her; she had never seen such a vicious look in anyone’s eyes, nothing resembling a human gaze.
But wasn’t he already passed out drunk, how could he suddenly open his eyes and speak in such a calm and clear manner?
"I-I was afraid you might have a fever, so I wanted to check your temperature." She stamred out, her mind already in disarray, the burning passion she had monts ago entirely extinguished, feeling only blank fear.
She couldn’t understand his gaze; was he sober or was this the madness of a drunken state?
Either way, it was quite abnormal. Having drunk so much, yet at such a critical mont, maintaining a clear state—his willpower was terrifyingly strong.
If this was madness from liquor, this madness might unleash the darkest and most vicious parts of him. If she angered him, he might, in a mont of unconsciousness, snap her neck.
Neither scenario was sothing she could bear.
Lie Fengzi was smart and quick to adapt, flipping off the bed near him, feigning rely caring for him.
"Get out!"
Ji Lingkong granted her only three icy words!
Lie Fengzi stared at him in disbelief, her face as pale as paper, a wave of humiliation surging through her heart. Then she suppressed her anger, gritting her teeth, and softly said, "I’ll get a doctor to check on you."
She obediently left.
Ji Lingkong closed his eyes again, slipping into a daze.
In truth, he was not conscious. Since childhood, he had undergone the most rigorous training. A man in his consciousness told him never to let down his guard in any circumstance because one mont’s looseness could cost him his life.
This instilled a deep-rooted vigilance in his subconscious, like a bone-chilling disease, allowing no one he didn’t trust near him, even in an unclear state.
Only after a long while did Jiang Yang return, finding his superior lying on the bed like a corpse, nearly scared to death with a scream catching in his throat, relieved only to find his forehead was warm.
Don’t bla him for this fright; the way his Lord Chief lay was too eerie—straight and neat without a sign of chaos, almost like a dead man in a coffin.
But what happened? The Chief had drunk himself into a stupor, this was trouble.
Soldiers and officers in the barracks were forbidden from drinking, especially in warti, when they were needed to carry out missions at any mont. This violated military discipline. Whatever was that duchess lady thinking, running off sowhere instead of comforting him, ended up comforting the Chief to the point of collapse—what was she doing?
"Lord Chief..." After calling out several tis without response from Ji Lingkong, Jiang Yang panicked and promptly served him sobering tea, feeding it to him.
Half an hour later, Ji Lingkong finally opened his eyes, head throbbing.
"Chief, what happened?"
"What do you think!" Ji Lingkong leaned against the pillow, his eyes coldly fixating on him, sternly, "How can you be an adjutant? How can you let anyone in my room so casually, treating this place like an exhibition hall with people moving in and out at will?"
He was a person who extrely valued privacy, disliking outsiders entering his domain.
Even when senior officers summoned him for etings, he would go to the hall.
Jiang Yang’s forehead was drenched in cold sweat, not expecting his fury, instantly shaking in fear, hastily offering explanations.
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