His voice was hoarse and deep, different from his usual satisfied state, carrying a hint of suppressed emotion.
“You’re back?”
“…Mm.” she replied softly.
“How are you awake? I thought I was being quiet.”
“I woke up early. I just had a headache and didn’t want to open my eyes,” he frowned and curved his lips. “I was going to cook something, but I thought you wouldn’t come back, so I didn’t bother.”
“Even if I don’t come back, you still need to eat.”
Chang Xuyu scolded him out of habit. He always did this, eating at irregular hours, skipping meals—how had his stomach withstood it? Even if she wasn’t here, he had to eat for himself. They wouldn’t see much of each other from now on. Was he trying to ruin his health?
He always relied on his muscles to claim he was in good shape, but no matter how strong, he couldn’t treat himself like this.
She pressed her lips together, a little angry.
The man opened his eyes, glimpsed the bloodshot in her eyes, and his heart sank. His gaze dimmed, and he said apologetically, “I was impulsive this time. I caused you trouble…”
At that time, he couldn’t care about anything. Driven by alcohol, he was mad with rage. His fists clenched, he only wanted to find that man and beat him into the ground—
Afterward, he blacked out.
He got more and more drunk. In a haze, he seemed to see Chang Xuyu. He held her tightly, terrified of losing her again.
He breathed in the fragrance from her hair and clothes, trying to restrain himself. But the more he sensed her presence, the more obsessed and delirious he became. Finally, he didn’t want to think about anything else, just wanted to stay by her side as long as possible.
Chang Xuyu watched him, looking like a subdued wolfdog, and suddenly her anger vanished. The fire in her heart was extinguished by his icy demeanor.
She hugged him back, carefully leaning close to his ear, and smiled.
“It’s okay, I don’t blame you.”
For some reason, she even felt a little happy.
She pressed her lips together and nestled obediently in his arms.
“Am I dreaming now?” he asked dazedly.
Chang Xuyu felt something was off. His embrace seemed warmer than usual. The north had heating, but she was naturally deficient in qi and blood, always rolling toward warmth in her sleep. He would naturally hold her. But today felt different—too hot.
She reached out to touch his forehead. Startled, it was so hot?
She dared not sleep; she had to get up.
“Yi Zhuo, Yi Zhuo, you have a fever.”
Chang Xuyu pressed the thermometer into his hand, touched his hot forehead, and called to him softly.
Ah, she should have thought of it earlier.
She took out the thermometer: indeed, 38.5 degrees Celsius.
Chang Xuyu wanted to get angry again.
She rummaged through the house, but it was completely empty—not a single useful medicine, only a few bottles of vitamins he had bought. She fed him a couple, but they didn’t help much.
Pacing in the room, it struck her: this home could no longer be called a “home.” In fact, it never had been.
He had asked how she wanted to decorate it back then, but she couldn’t even remember what excuse she had given him. She had never really cared, just thought they were cohabiting, getting by. Later, both of them were rarely home, and she never managed the household supplies. He seemed to have been the one doing all the shopping and cleaning.
An empty life, like him smoking alone on the balcony in the cold—so cold and lonely.
And she had never cared.
She had never even asked what brand of cigarettes he liked.
It was no wonder she couldn’t find any medicine now.
“Give me Dr. Song’s number,” she sighed, walking over to him.
“152…” he recited.
“Okay.”
The call connected. Chang Xuyu stepped out of the room.
A moment later, Song Shuheng proficiently sent her a prescription: “I have a surgery soon, I can’t get away. Buy that medicine for him first. If his fever doesn’t go down by evening, I’ll come.” Then he hung up.
Chang Xuyu went back to the bedroom to check on him, but the bed was empty.
Perplexed, she turned around and fell into a scorching embrace.
She caught her breath.
Yi Zhuo enveloped her like a giant sun umbrella, carrying a scent of hormones and mint.
His lips were pale. The room was silent, with the clock ticking “tick-tock.” Their heartbeats slowly overlapped and intertwined. She took a breath, touched his cheek, and coaxed softly, “I’ll go buy you medicine in a bit. Are you a little anemic? How about I make you spinach egg rolls? Even if you can’t eat much, you should have something in your stomach when you’re sick…”
In his blurry vision, her lips moved, peach-pink and moist.
He inexplicably leaned in and kissed her, lingering for a moment, not daring to overdo it.
“Stay with me for a while. It works better than medicine.” He looked at her, not letting go, his eyes full of pure emotion.
Her world suddenly became noisy.
Author's note:
I'm starving, I'm starving
Getting up to eat
"Love Message" is really good