Chapter 39 Swollen and Ashamed

Han Rao developed a fever just before dawn. She was awakened by the heat.

Han Rao actually had a good constitution; aside from excruciating period pain, she rarely suffered from serious illnesses throughout the year.

However, whenever she did fall ill, it was always a particularly severe kind that would trouble her for several days.

At this moment, the light rain was still falling outside, and a cool, somewhat damp breeze drifted in through the window.

Han Rao closed her eyes, feeling breathless and her whole body like a furnace. A gust of wind on her skin immediately made her shiver. After she woke up, she realized her body was not right. She raised her arm to touch her face and neck, then pinched her earlobe, belatedly realizing she must have a fever.

She was curled up in one corner of the bed, and when she turned around, she found the man lying on the other side of the bed, back to back, as if separated by a galaxy.

Han Rao vaguely remembered that she was terribly hot in the middle of the night, so she pried his arm open and rolled to the other side, moving further away from him. Usually, he was a light sleeper and would probably forcefully pull her back. This time, for some reason, he was sleeping very soundly.

Could it be that he was exhausted from a day of exertion yesterday?

Han Rao put away her inner speculations, propped herself up on the bed to get up, but as soon as she sat up, she felt a dizzy spell from insufficient blood supply to her brain. She closed her eyes and waited for two seconds, not caring about the sharp antagonism between them before going to bed, and called him with a hoarse voice: “Zhao Jichuan.”

The man probably heard her call, moved slightly, and then fell silent again. Suddenly, as if realizing something, he sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

“What’s wrong?”

Why is her voice so hoarse?

The dim yellow light permeated the entire bedroom, and he could clearly see her wilted little face. Her complexion was indeed not good, with a deep, sickly pallor under her eyes. Her hair was also a bit disheveled, with a few strands scattered across her chest.

Zhao Jichuan’s heart trembled, and he asked her if she had a nightmare.

She had a nightmare once before, and after waking up in a fright, she didn’t dare to sleep, leaning against the headboard, staring blankly. At that time, he woke up and was startled by her, only to find out after questioning that she was plagued by nightmares, dreaming of being chased by ghosts. That night, he voluntarily held her in his arms and coaxed her for a long time before she fell asleep.

Han Rao coughed and said with a bitter face, “I think I have a fever. Can you help me find some medicine?”

His voice was a little better than before, but still deep, with a rumbling tail, as if something was stuck.

Han Rao wasn’t so feverish that she couldn’t even go downstairs to find some medicine. The moment she sat up, she wanted to rely on herself; after all, she had been accustomed to being alone for so many years.

But when she saw the man beside her and heard his even breathing, she immediately became sentimental, and her limbs seemed to grow lazy. She didn’t want to get up by herself; she wanted to kick him awake and then torment him.

She didn’t dare to kick him in the end, but she did get her fill of it in her mind.

After all, she could distinguish between making love and not making love. She wasn’t so stupid as to pull the tiger’s whiskers.

Zhao Jichuan, perhaps because he had just woken up, had a relatively pure gaze. He stretched his sleeves, stared at her for a long time, and a feeling of guilt welled up in his heart.

Did he torment her for too long last night, causing her to develop a fever?

He no longer cared that she had angered him. He immediately pulled her into his arms, pressed his forehead against hers, then moved down to touch her neck with his lips.

Even without taking her temperature, she knew she had a fever, and a very high one at that.

Zhao Jichuan immediately wrapped her in a quilt and turned to find her clothes, “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Han Rao turned her head to look out the window. The rain was still falling outside. Beicheng almost every year at the beginning of summer would have such a continuous overcast and rainy day. The rain wasn’t heavy, but it had the melancholic feeling of the continuous drizzle in Jiangnan.

She suddenly felt a little homesick.

It had been a full six months since she last went home. Every weekend she went to Hangzhou to film the reality show, and after filming, she actually had time to go home and stay for a night, but for some reason, she never did.

Perhaps when one is ill, they become vulnerable, their thoughts more sensitive than before, and their emotions more intense.

The man casually picked out a white shirt for her, skillfully removed her clothes, and was about to put the shirt over her head. As he held the hem in his hand, he suddenly remembered that she wasn’t wearing a bra, so he opened the closet again and grabbed a white bra at random.

Zhao Jichuan held her in his arms, propping up her arms to help her put on her bra. She was as soft as a puddle of mud, making it difficult for him to fasten the clasps. There were three rows of clasps; the first two were fastened, but when he went to fasten the third, the first one came undone again.

The man frowned. He only knew how to untie this thing; a simple tug would do it. As for how to tie it, he had always done it haphazardly before, tying it for her twice without any particular method. Perhaps he was a bit too eager today, repeatedly failing.

Finally, with the last snap, all three rows of buckles were fastened. Seeing this, the man breathed a sigh of relief and immediately helped her put on her shirt.

Throughout the entire process, Han Rao kept her eyes closed, leaning bonelessly against him, like a soulless ragdoll, letting him do as he pleased.

The man lifted the covers to help her put on her pants. When he picked up her ankle, Han Rao finally opened her eyes. She sneezed, wary

She had to retract her leg, and asked him hoarsely, “Zhao Jichuan, what are you doing?”

She’s so sick, he wouldn’t still be thinking about *that*, would he? That would be too damn beastly.

Han Rao hugged her arms and casually pushed him, which was like scratching an itch, without any deterrent.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said succinctly. He had no time to bother with the twisted, sordid thoughts in her mind.

Han Rao frowned, “I’m not going to the hospital.”

She hated going to hospitals, hated white coats, and hated the smell of disinfectant.

And can he not understand human speech? She asked him to help her find some fever medicine, but he wrapped her up like a zongzi.

And that broken bra was going to strangle her!

She usually had to fasten this bra on the second hook to be comfortable, but he had forcefully tightened it to the innermost hook, making it hard for her to breathe. She felt like her chest had been squeezed smaller.

Han Rao irritably reached into her clothes, tore off what she found, threw it in his face, then lay down on the bed, curling into a small ball and pulling the covers over her head.

She just wanted an antipyretic, and now she had to wonder if he was trying to murder her.

Zhao Jichuan was truly exasperated by her. He lowered his gaze to look at her, bent down to pick up her underwear and place it aside, then reached out to touch her hair, saying forcefully, “Get up, let’s go to the hospital.”

Han Rao irritably brushed his hand away, “Don’t bother me.”

He never understood what people said; all she wanted was a piece of medicine.

Han Rao closed her eyes. She didn’t want to move now; she just wanted to lie in bed and let herself wither away, preferably to fall asleep and never wake up.

Zhao Jichuan didn’t know her thoughts. If he did, he would definitely point at her forehead and laugh at her, saying she was such a coward that a mere illness made her feel like dying.

The man gritted his back teeth, taking two seconds to convince himself not to quibble with a patient. Besides, he thought her sudden fever was likely due to their intense activity last night, and her small frame couldn’t handle it. It could also be from catching a cold, as he had initially placed her on the vanity without even a towel to cushion her.

He was consumed by guilt and couldn’t bring himself to be angry, no matter what. Even though he knew the possibility of his suspicions being true was very small, he still took the blame upon himself, convincing himself to diligently take care of her.

Zhao Jichuan went downstairs directly and opened the first-aid kit. The kit was full of medicine, and he was unsure what to give her, so he took out his phone and called Lin Kuang.

Lin Kuang and his parents were family friends, and by seniority, he should call him “Uncle Lin.” It was indeed not good to disturb him at such an awkward time. But he had no other choice. The person upstairs was sick and had a terrible temper. She didn’t want to go to the hospital, and he couldn’t really tie her up and drag her there, could he? What would that look like?

If she were really tied up, she’d probably make headlines tomorrow, stirring up a storm.

While I was still thinking, the call on the other end had already connected.

“Uncle Lin, I’m sorry to bother you at this hour.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just doing my morning exercises. What’s up?” Lin Kuang habitually woke up early to practice Baduanjin in the siheyuan.

Zhao Jichuan asked directly, “What medicine should I take for a fever?”

“What’s the fever temperature? What medicines do you have at home now? Who has a fever? Is it you or Yueyue?”

One by one, questions were thrown at him over the phone, and Zhao Jichuan suddenly felt at a loss. It was his first time mentioning Han Rao to an elder, but he didn’t know how to introduce her identity.

The man paused for two seconds, “My girlfriend.”

The person on the other side seemed to be silent for two seconds as well, then laughed heartily, “When did you get a girlfriend? Bring her to the shop sometime when you’re free, so Uncle Lin can meet her. Uncle Lin will treat you to hotpot.”

Lin Kuang opened a hotpot restaurant near the Summer Palace, purely for fun.

Zhao Jichuan agreed, then added, “I’ll take her temperature and send it to you. I’ll have to trouble you.”

“Mm.”

Zhao Jichuan carried the medicine box upstairs. Han Rao seemed to be asleep again, lying still and obediently.

He pulled back the quilt that was covering her head, revealing her bare, delicate face, which looked incredibly fragile. He remembered that last night, just as he was about to fall asleep, she suddenly got up and insisted on removing her makeup. He asked her if she couldn’t just skip it, and she said she didn’t want to get acne.

So last night, he lay in bed with his eyes closed, listening to the sound of water flowing in the bathroom, listening to her meticulously doing her skincare, and finally, tiptoeing into bed.

He stretched out his long arm and pulled her into his embrace, lowering his head to inhale her fresh scent. Before long, he fell asleep.

Zhao Jichuan used a thermometer gun to take her **temperature. It was 39.1 degrees Celsius, a serious fever. He was afraid it wasn’t accurate, because Han Rao had complained to him last time that this thing was a scam, so the man took out a thermometer again, lifted her arm, and placed it under her armpit.

He thought: I’ll give her a pill first to see if her fever goes down. If it doesn’t, I’ll still have to take her to the hospital for an antipyretic injection.

While waiting for the thermometer, he went downstairs and made her a cup of honey water.

“Raorao.”

Han Rao closed her eyes, feeling extremely sleepy, possibly due to a fever. She was so drowsy that she didn’t want to open her eyes at all. She raised her hand slightly, indicating that she had heard.

Zhao Jichuan picked her up and had her hold the honey water. “Drink some water, or your throat will be uncomfortable.”

Han Rao opened her hand to take the cup, but whether it was because she didn’t grip it tightly enough or he let go too quickly, the cup instantly slipped from her palm, slid to the bedside, rolled onto the floor, and shattered. One-third of the water spilled on the bed, and two-thirds spilled on the floor.

Zhao Jichuan, wearing black slippers, looked down to see the cup shattered into pieces, with large shards of glass scattered at his feet.

With a “bang,” it was very crisp.

Han Rao also sobered up, her eyes suddenly widening. Had she caused trouble?

She lowered her head. Because of the quilt, not a drop of water touched her. He, on the other hand, had a patch of dampness on his gray loungewear.

The man’s face was terrifyingly grim. He stood up and quietly looked at her, his gaze probably more chilling than a murderous one.

Han Rao shrank her neck and subtly moved inward.

She was waiting for him to lose his temper, but after a long wait, the man finally spoke: “Did it burn you?”

It definitely didn’t burn her, as the water wasn’t hot. He was afraid she’d get burned, so he specifically drew water at fifty degrees.

Han Rao slowly shook her head.

The man didn’t have time to clean up the broken glass on the floor before getting up to make her another cup of honey water. He said, “Hold it steady.”

There was still a hint of weariness on his face, but he wasn’t impatient.

Han Rao raised an eyebrow at him, clutching the cup and wondering when his temper had gotten so good.

Was it because she was sick and he was accommodating her? Or was it because he liked her and lowered his standards for her?

Han Rao felt intensely hot, her heart pounding incessantly. In that instant, her mind was remarkably clear, her inner vanity and possessiveness at play.

She really wanted to know how far he would lower his bottom line for her.

Han Rao pursed her lips, looking at the glass of honey water, its amber-like golden hue shimmering with luster.

She didn’t take it, but instead said petulantly, “Zhao Jichuan, I don’t have any strength in my hands.”

Zhao Jichuan narrowed his eyes, unsure if he saw through her trick. He sat on the bed, pulled her into his arms, and raised the cup to her lips.

Han Rao’s lips were a little dry. She swallowed, feeling as if she could faintly smell a light floral scent. She opened her mouth, and Zhao Jichuan raised his arm again.

In this position, Zhao Jichuan fed Han Rao about half a cup of honey water.

She felt that this cup of water, like the early hours of today, brought her a wave of dampness.

Zhao Jichuan placed the cup on the nightstand, estimating that her temperature had been taken. He lifted her arm to retrieve the thermometer, but she grabbed his collar and kissed him.

The woman’s mouth still carried a faint fragrance, but her eyes were exceptionally alluring. She wrapped her arms around his waist, wanting to express her gratitude with this kiss.

Zhao Jichuan thought: If she weren’t sick, tonight would probably be another restless night, because she truly knew how to ignite his desire.

After the kiss ended, the man’s eyes showed no change. He pulled out the thermometer, glanced at the temperature, which was indeed 39.1 degrees Celsius, and then sent a message to Lin Kuang.

Lin Kuang replied quickly, telling him what medicine to take, how much, and how often to take it if the fever didn’t subside. He also said, “Drink more hot water, cover yourself with a quilt, don’t use the air conditioner, and sweat it out to bring down the fever.”

After thanking him, the man immediately tossed his phone aside and gave Han Rao the medicine. This time, she was sensible and took the medicine without hesitation. She put the white pill in her mouth, took a sip of water, and swallowed it immediately.

After taking the medicine, she was listless again, curling up in bed

Curling her legs, she huddled into a small ball. She pulled the quilt up to her nose, revealing a pair of watery eyes, and quietly watched him clean up the mess on the floor.

Zhao Jichuan was quick and efficient, tidying up quickly. He then got another quilt for her, before getting into bed and holding her in his arms.

She let out a soft hiss, then pushed him, “You’re lying on my hair.”

Zhao Jichuan reluctantly got up, reached for the hair tie on the nightstand, and tied up her hair for her, then continued to hold her in his arms.

Han Rao was wide awake, even a little excited. She raised her hand and poked his chin, then went to touch his Adam’s apple.

The man grabbed her hand, “Fever’s gone? Go make breakfast then.”

Han Rao pouted, she wasn’t going.

Zhao Jichuan held her in his arms and said, “Stop fussing, sleep a little longer. You’ll feel better after a good sleep.”

Han Rao nestled in his arms, her eyes fluttering open and closed, her eyelashes brushing against his arm.

“Zhao Jichuan, you are now the best man to me, besides my dad.” She was eager to curry favor.

“You’ve surpassed your ex-boyfriend?” he asked.

Han Rao pinched his mouth and chuckled, “Are you jealous?” Otherwise, why compare so much?

“Or rather, were you angry with me yesterday because you were jealous?” She didn’t even realize that she particularly liked asking him these kinds of questions, just like a girl in love at seventeen or eighteen.

Zhao Jichuan couldn’t be bothered to waste words with her. He’d rather spend that time nursing her broken voice, which was terribly unpleasant to listen to.

“If you’re too awake to sleep, we could consider doing it again. How about a change of scenery, do you like bathtubs?”

“No way.” She buried her face in his arms, her ears completely red, and whispered, biting her lip slightly, “It’s all swollen.”

Zhao Jichuan’s alarm bells went off. He threw back the covers and reached for her ankle. “Let me see.”

Han Rao’s heart skipped a beat. Had she gone too far?

“It’s not swollen, I was just kidding.” She grabbed his wrist and shook her head firmly.

Zhao Jichuan seemed not to believe her nonsense; her credibility with him was now overdrawn. The man knelt halfway on the bed, and by the dim light, his hand covered her knee, which still bore bruises from an accidental bump during the reality show recording.

He felt very sorry for her.

The man didn’t lower his gaze, perhaps due to fever or something else, her whole body was intensely red, her fair skin tinged with a delicate pink, like a crystal-clear gem, seemingly on the verge of dripping.

His lips landed on her iris tattoo, and a flurry of kisses followed, moving around it.

She coughed repeatedly, her throat particularly hoarse from illness, and asked him if he had finished reading.

For some reason, he suddenly recalled the scene of making her honey water. He opened the lid and scooped out half a spoon of honey, which was premium pure honey, not the kind artificially mixed with syrup. The honey, scooped from the jar, gave off a sweet and sticky sensation.

She was the only one who loved sweet things so much, even using the excuse of beauty and skincare.

“Raorao.” He called her name.

Then came to a conclusion.

She was indeed fine.

But playing with fire usually comes at a price.

Zhao Jichuan lowered his eyes, thinking that the feverish her was probably a mimosa, suddenly retracting at a touch, activating a layer of protective mode.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He only felt how terribly hot she was, and then thought that even burning up like this, she still refused to go to the hospital. She really had a stubborn temper.

But he was more curious, what would it feel like to kiss her when she was so hot?

He thought, if he had the chance, he really should try her honey water.

Just now, Lin Kuang told her on the phone to drink more water and sweat it out. But compared to drinking water and sweating, wasn’t there another way that would make her sweat more easily and help her more?

The man’s breathing became more and more rapid. He was probably truly a beast, a scoundrel, and it wasn’t unfair for her to curse him like that when she was angry or making love.

Han Rao propped herself up on the bed with her elbows, her ears completely flushed. She thought it was probably because she had a high fever and burned out her brain, otherwise, why would she still have a reaction at a time like this?

So embarrassing.

Han Rao cleared her throat, decisively brought her knees together, curled her toes, and picked up a pillow to throw at his head, “Zhao Jichuan, are you really that vengeful?”

She met the man’s deep eyes, pursed her lips, her face darkening into a line, but her voice grew softer and softer, even trembling a little, “You don’t really want to kill me, do you?”