Chapter 130: May I Reach Inside Your Clothes? (First Update)

Jiang Muwen stood there, dazed, watching Wen Yichen struggle to pull at a medicated plaster. She felt a mix of amusement and heartache. If one were to freeze Wen Yichen in this moment and give it a title, it would likely be "Portrait of a Weak, Lonely, and Helpless Soul."

She had no idea what was wrong with him, but her intuition told her that Wen Yichen must be having a miserable time.

Before long, Wen Yichen gave up the struggle. He slowly ceased his movements and inadvertently raised his eyes, only to find himself locking gazes with Jiang Muwen.

The eye contact caused a tremor in Jiang Muwen’s heart; her pulse quickened, leaving her momentarily flustered.

Right now, the young man before her was staring unblinkingly at her. A flash of confusion seemed to pass through his bright eyes, and within that confusion was a hint of a plea for help. "Jiang Muwen..."

Wen Yichen’s thin lips parted slightly. The surrounding environment was rather noisy, and Jiang Muwen did not hear exactly what he said, but judging by the shape of his mouth, she could guess. Guided by her assumption, Jiang Muwen took slow, measured steps toward him.

"Did you call me?" she asked tentatively.

"Why are you here?" Wen Yichen didn't answer her question directly; he looked at her, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"I... I finished my work, so I came over to take a look," she said, offering a sheepish smile.

The next second, her gaze fell back onto his shoulder. What was stuck there was truly a medicated plaster.

"Your shoulder..." Jiang Muwen looked at the fresh plaster, which was emitting a pungent odor, and then back at Wen Yichen.

"An Ruoxue put it on."

It was unlikely many would believe it, but this plaster had truly been applied by the popular starlet An Ruoxue herself.

"What happened to you?" Jiang Muwen asked with concern.

"I pulled a muscle in my shoulder," Wen Yichen said weakly. For a strapping young man over six feet tall to pull a muscle in his shoulder—to Wen Yichen, it was truly embarrassing to admit.

It was likely because he had been carrying the camera equipment for the past few days that his shoulder had sustained a minor injury. Just moments ago, he had set the camera down and reached for a drink behind him. Too lazy to turn around, he had reached back instinctively. Perhaps he had used too much force; with that one stretch, he had managed to pull a muscle.

The moment it happened, Wen Yichen felt as if the whole world had gone dark. The sensation was terrible, and the pain was so intense he couldn't even manage a word. Fortunately, the atmosphere on the set was relaxed enough that he had been able to slip away to the sofa to sit for a while.

Who would have guessed that shortly after he sat down, An Ruoxue had run over to him? She had likely noticed his pained expression earlier. Saying, "Your health is the most important thing when you're young," she had slapped the plaster onto his shoulder with a loud "smack." Whether out of kindness or mischief, she didn't forget to give his back a firm pat after finishing: "Take care of yourself, buddy!"

"Can you help me pull it off?" Wen Yichen pulled himself out of his thoughts, his ears turning slightly red as he seemed a bit embarrassed.

An Ruoxue’s plaster was incredibly adhesive, so much so that Wen Yichen couldn't manage to tear it off on his own.

Jiang Muwen watched him quietly for a moment before giving a docile "oh." The next second, she reached out and began to carefully peel away the plaster. However, it was stuck so firmly that even after she picked at it earnestly for a while, there was no progress.

The plaster remained firmly in place, but Wen Yichen was being driven to distraction by her fingers. Her fingertips brushed against his back intermittently, cautious and light, yet feeling like waves of electricity passing through his body, causing him to tremble involuntarily. Still, he said nothing, just sat there quietly, his ears growing even hotter and redder.

Jiang Muwen seemed to notice his reaction and froze for a split second, thinking she had hurt him. "Are you okay?"

"..." Wen Yichen paused, then gave a deliberate dry cough. "I'm fine. You don't have to be so careful; use a bit more force."

He would rather feel the sharp sting of her pulling it off than endure her light, ticklish grazing.

Following his instructions, Jiang Muwen gave a docile "oh," and in the next second, she obediently gave it a firm tug.

The sudden pain made Wen Yichen gasp. "Hiss..."

"Did it come off?" Wen Yichen tilted his head slightly, watching her from the corner of his eye.

"No."

The most suffocating thing in the world was not the physical pain itself, but realizing that after enduring that pain, there was still no progress.

"Can I reach my hand inside your shirt?" Jiang Muwen asked cautiously. If she could press against the fabric with one hand while pulling with the other, it should be much easier.

After a moment of hesitation, Wen Yichen gave a low, faint "mm."

Once he agreed, Jiang Muwen tentatively pinched the collar and slid her other hand inside his shirt. It seemed to be the first time she had ever done such a thing; every slight movement of her hand brought her into contact with his skin.

Perhaps because the air conditioning had been running for too long, or perhaps because she was simply too nervous, her hand was cold as it slipped inside. The accidental contact with his skin made Wen Yichen instinctively straighten his back and lean forward.

The movement was almost one continuous motion. The next second, the neckline of his shirt was pulled wide open. Where Jiang Muwen had previously been unable to see anything, Wen Yichen’s sudden straightening revealed a vast expanse of his back.

The warm studio lights fell upon his clean shirt, casting a faint shadow across his smooth, bare back.

Jiang Muwen had already been struggling to keep her composure. Now, seeing this sight, the blood in her veins began to surge. Her cheeks grew increasingly hot, her mind went blank, and she stared at the young man in front of her, momentarily unsure of what to do.

Seeing that there was no movement from behind him, Wen Yichen subconsciously turned his head slightly and asked tentatively, "Are you done yet?"

At the young man’s question, Jiang Muwen jolted back to her senses. "Almost, almost!"

She returned her focus to the plaster on his shirt.

Seeing a small corner of the plaster lift away from the fabric, Jiang Muwen instinctively withdrew her hand from inside his shirt. The sound of the adhesive separating from the fabric slowly echoed in both their ears. As she pulled, she saw the boy’s shoulder—a shoulder she had known to