Chapter 138: Yes, I Am Sick!

"Hand it over!"

"I don't have it on me."

Zhan Su was tall and imposing. Shi Qingqing retreated step after step until she was pinned into a corner.

The phone was clearly visible in her pants pocket; her bold-faced lie was completely ineffective. With a swift movement, Zhan Su reached out—his speed so blinding she barely saw it—and in the blink of an eye, the phone was in his hand.

Shi Qingqing stood on her tiptoes, reaching out to snatch it back, but she couldn't reach him. Zhan Su was tall, and he held the phone high above his head, keeping it completely out of her grasp. She was frantic.

Then she heard Zhan Su say, "Why won't it turn on? Is the battery dead?"

Shi Qingqing suddenly remembered that the phone was undergoing maintenance.

*Phew!*

She let out a sigh of relief. She had almost forgotten about the maintenance. Thank goodness.

"Yeah! It's dead! It's been dead for a while, and I didn't bring a charger..."

Zhan Su looked at her, skeptical. The two were standing very close. Suddenly, Zhan Su leaned in and sniffed her.

"What? Are you a dog?"

"You smell like another man," Zhan Su said, his eyes turning cold.

He looked at Shi Qingqing's arm, where a clear fingerprint was visible—the exact spot where Shi Weifang had grabbed her earlier. The scent was coming from that very place. A thin veil of fury gradually clouded his expression. He shoved the phone back into her jeans pocket, then grabbed her.

With a few long strides, he dragged her to the washbasin, turned the faucet on full blast, and thrust her arm under the water—the exact spot where Shi Weifang had touched her. His actions were rough and overbearing.

Shi Qingqing’s clothes were soaked. She struggled to resist, but she was no match for his strength. It was as if she were in shackles. Zhan Su even used hand soap and scrubbed her arm vigorously.

Shi Qingqing was in tears from the pain. "It hurts! Zhan Su, what are you doing?"

Zhan Su’s movements slowed slightly, his expression dark and fierce. "Don't ever let another man touch you again! Do you understand?"

Shi Qingqing was pressed against the cold vanity. The water was running heavily, and her T-shirt was completely drenched. She was terrified by his sudden, violent outburst.

"Zhan Su, are you sick?"

"Yes, I am sick!"

"If you're sick, go take some medicine! Why are you taking it out on me? I must have had the worst luck in eight lifetimes to run into a psycho like you..."

Shi Qingqing was going crazy. How could anyone stand this jerk and his periodic fits? It was one thing for him to be a germaphobe, but did he have to drag her into his obsession? He had scrubbed her arm until it was almost raw, his movements so rough and devoid of any gentleness—did he think he was washing cabbage?

Shi Qingqing resisted with all her might, and with a loud *bang*, her head struck the faucet. A large bump instantly rose on her forehead.

Seeing this, a complex look flashed across Zhan Su’s face—cold, yet conflicted. Gritting his teeth, he abruptly let go of her and stepped back. "Wash it yourself. Clean it thoroughly. You are my medicine, and my medicine must remain absolutely pure."

She was a person, not some medicine! Shi Qingqing tried to make a break for it, but Zhan Su blocked the bathroom door. She couldn't escape.

Zhan Su in such a rage was simply unbearable. Enduring the pain, she said, "Zhan Su, you really should see a psychiatrist. I’m a human being, how could I be medicine? Can you show some respect for others? You won't have any friends if you keep acting like this!"

"I said you are, so you are! Wash! Wash it a hundred times!" Zhan Su’s voice was arrogant and unreasonable.

Shi Qingqing knew there was no reasoning with him, and her heart filled with indignation. What kind of storms hadn't she, Shi Qingqing, weathered before? When had she ever yielded?