Dong Huiying turned to look at Hong Xiangjun. With hesitation, Hong Xiangjun asked, "Do you know Wang San?" "Yes!" she did not hide the truth. Hong Xiangjun’s expression grew solemn, "Though I do not know what exactly you are up to, you’d better stay away from him. Have you ever inquired about this man’s reputation? Wang San used to work for the Fierce Tiger Sect, and moreover... he especially likes those petite young girls." It wasn’t that she was worried about anything else—given Dong Huiying’s abilities, even if Wang San were extremely capable, he wouldn’t be able to touch her at all. However, the problem lay with the Fierce Tiger Sect behind Wang San. If a conflict arose between the two sides and Wang San got into trouble, the Fierce Tiger Sect would certainly not let him off easily. Dong Huiying said, "Don’t worry, I have already looked into it. I know he seems to have certain fixations, but he should think twice before trying to touch me." Seeing her confident demeanor, Hong Xiangjun was momentarily stunned, "That’s true, perhaps I’m overthinking. We are near the border, and you were once a high-ranking military official. The Fierce Tiger Sect, respecting not the monk but the Buddha himself, would probably not dare to do anything to you." Dong Huiying’s lips twitched as she thought to herself that you don’t know, just days ago, my portrait was hanging on the wall. "Sister Hong, you should rest now. I need to head back with Haoming." After saying goodbye to Hong Xiangjun, the two of them hastened to return to the Fierce Tiger Sect before nightfall. Once they returned to the room Wang San had arranged for them, Dong Huiying suddenly let out a whine. Her "Addiction" seemed to be acting up again. Liang Haoming quickly picked her up and then rushed into the room with large strides. Half-awake, she wiped her face only to see her hand covered in red. She was stunned for a moment, right then, the man lying on top of her quickly sat up. The man, bare-chested, had his back full of scratch marks. He held his nose, tilting his head back, and one could see the tapering trail of blood beneath his lips and chin. "Pfft—!" It wasn’t that she was unkind; she genuinely couldn’t help it. Did this man always have nosebleeds? She carefully recalled for a long while that it wasn’t their first or second time in bed together. At first, just a touch from her would excite him so much that his nose would bleed profusely. It had gotten slightly better later, but every few days, he’d be back to this profuse bleeding. Noticing her stare, he looked at her solemnly with a wooden expression, though his ears and neck were thoroughly red. It was clear he too was embarrassed. "Come, your hand?" She extended her small hand towards Liang Haoming as a gesture. Haoming paused momentarily, then extended his hand, placing it on her tiny palm. She took his pulse and then frowned slightly, "This won’t do. You really need to take some tonics." He suddenly turned his head, seemingly sulking for unknown reasons. She looked puzzled, "What’s wrong with you now?" His face struggled for a moment before he muttered sullenly, "I am not my second brother." He was not his sickly second brother. Why didn’t he see any of his other brothers at home taking tonics? He... he was fit. After that, what ensued was indescribable. Until the sun was high in the sky, he finally stopped, arrogantly glancing at her. Her mouth twitched, seriously, brother! No need for more tonics, you don’t have to take them; I think it’s me who needs them, otherwise, I’ll be drained dry by you and your brothers!!