For a moment, Xia Liyang froze, not fully processing why he was here.

Her slightly parted lips couldn’t manage to form a word.

It wasn’t until Lu Huaicheng walked over to her bedside, removed his black gloves with his slender fingers, and gently touched her forehead.

“You’re still burning up. Why didn’t you tell me?” His tone was a mix of gentle reproach, his deep gaze softened by a touch of light, like snow melting in the warmth of spring.

The cool sensation of his hand on her fevered skin felt like a refreshing drink of water, but it also made her shiver involuntarily. She pulled her face back, breaking contact with his palm.

“You told me to go to the hospital if I felt unwell; how could I bother you again?” Xia Liyang wrapped herself tighter in the blanket, looking at him with a pout.

Lu Huaicheng’s slender hand paused for a moment, then he somewhat awkwardly put it back in his suit pocket.

After a brief silence, he smiled and said, “You’re so obedient now.”

“Otherwise, you’d be upset again, and I wouldn’t know how to cheer you up.” Xia Liyang’s long lashes fluttered, her voice soft and slightly aggrieved.

“I don’t need you to cheer me up.” His gaze softened, and he undid his suit button, sitting gracefully on the edge of her bed.

Xia Liyang’s heartbeat quickened for no reason. She shifted her gaze and murmured, “You ignored me the past few days.”

“I was just a bit busy.” His tone was slightly unnatural, but he smiled gently. “And didn’t I reply to your messages? How could you blame me falsely?”

“…Well, technically you did, but you were clearly distancing yourself from me.”

Why won’t he admit it?

She glanced at his composed, mask-like smile, swallowing back her thoughts. If he didn’t want to discuss something, there was no point in asking. Besides, it didn’t matter what he thought before. Their relationship didn’t need too much clarity or honesty. She just needed to seize the chance when he was back.

Xia Liyang bit her lip, looked up at him with an innocent gaze, and softly said, “I’m feeling awful, and you’re still accusing me of blaming you.”

“I’m not accusing you.” His smile grew a touch helpless, and his gentle tone held some concern. “Did you measure your temperature?”

“I’m measuring it now.” Xia Liyang paused briefly, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. “It should be done soon.”

With that, she stretched out her pale, slender hand from under the blanket and handed him the thermometer. “Could you check it for me? I’m too dizzy.”

“Alright.” Lu Huaicheng took the thermometer, glanced at it, and frowned slightly. “38 degrees.”

“Could you pass me the water and fever medicine from the table?” Xia Liyang licked her dry lips and sat up against the headboard.

“It’s not 38.5 yet. There’s no need for fever medicine.” He set the thermometer aside.

“But I feel terrible! My whole body aches, and I’m cold.” Xia Liyang intentionally made her voice sound even weaker, her eyes drooping.

Lu Huaicheng gazed at her quietly for a moment before standing up. “Lie down for a while. I’ll figure something out, but don’t take any medicine.”

“Fine…” Xia Liyang nodded reluctantly.

She said she felt cold, secretly hoping he might hold her or something. But instead of moving closer, he was about to leave her side.

Xia Liyang lay back in bed, watching his tall figure and wondering if he was going to get her a heat pack. But after a few moments, she heard the sound of chopping from outside, as if someone was cutting something.

Curious, she lifted her head slightly to peek outside the bedroom.

There was Lu Huaicheng, standing at the island in the open kitchen, slicing ginger. He’d taken off his suit jacket, leaving only a gray shirt, which accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His sleeves were lightly rolled up, revealing the toned lines of his forearms.

The warm kitchen light cast a soft glow over his dark hair, highlighting the pale skin at the back of his neck.

Sensing her gaze, he turned his head slightly.

The instant their eyes met, Xia Liyang suddenly felt shy. She quickly pulled her head back into the covers.

Seeing her cute yet flustered turtle-like retreat, Lu Huaicheng’s lips curved into a slight smile. He lowered his head and continued slicing the ginger.

He remembered how his mother used to make him a ginger and scallion soup whenever he had a low-grade fever and chills. Although he used to resist drinking it, knowing it was effective, he’d always try to drink as little as possible. That was until the summer when his mother fell into a coma. He lay feverish in bed, longing for just one more sip of that familiar soup, but there was no one left to make it for him.

His gaze darkened as he placed the ginger and scallions into a pot of water, turning on the stove.

His eyes swept over the messy dining table, covered with untouched takeout containers. In the corner of the living room, the shopping bags of luxury goods he’d given her sat, unopened. He couldn’t tell if she hadn’t had the energy to look at them or simply wasn’t interested.

Though she often claimed to need money and acted materialistic, she didn’t show much excitement for the things he provided.

Initially, when she pretended to twist her ankle to get close to him, he thought he understood girls like her. But as they spent more time together, she became harder to read.

Lu Huaicheng stood quietly for a moment, then returned to the bedroom and looked at Xia Liyang, who was bundled up in blankets. “You left so much food on the table. Aren’t you hungry?”

The little “cocoon” on the bed wriggled, revealing her flushed face. “I feel a bit empty, but I don’t have much appetite. I can’t eat that food…”

“What would you like, then?” Lu Huaicheng frowned.

“Maybe millet porridge,” she said, with a shy smile.

“Fine.” He lowered his eyes, his long fingers swiping across his phone, seemingly searching for Lin Shen’s number.

Thinking it was almost 10 o’clock and Lin Shen still needed to be woken up to find a place selling millet porridge for her,

Xia Liyang found it hard not to empathize with his miserable fate as an employee, and hurriedly added, “But I don’t want to drink from the shop outside.”

Lu Huaicheng paused, lifting his eyelids slightly: “What do you mean, are you ordering me to cook for you?”

“I don’t mean to order you…” Xia Liyang bit her lip nervously, saying cautiously, “Anyway, you’re already making me ginger soup; it wouldn’t be much trouble to make a porridge too.”

Looking at her thick lashes lightly drooping and her wet eyes looking at him, Lu Huaicheng helplessly put down his phone: “Fine, I’ll make it for you since you’re feeling unwell.”

“Mr. Lu, you’re so nice.” The corners of Xia Liyang’s eyes curved like a crescent moon, her tone sincere and sweet.

Lu Huaicheng smiled noncommittally and turned to leave the bedroom.

Xia Liyang stared at his tall, slender figure for a moment before secretly curling her lips and retracting into the blanket.

In fact, it was already surprising to her that someone as high and mighty as him would make her ginger soup.

She didn’t expect that he would also agree to make her millet porridge.

It seemed he still had some softness in his heart for her when she was sick.

Perhaps she could use this point to ask him for more favors?

As Xia Liyang pondered this, when Lu Huaicheng was delivering ginger soup to her, she gently tugged at his shirt sleeve with her slender fingers and softly asked, “Mr. Lu, could you feed me?”

Lu Huaicheng paused, his deep gaze flicking to her for a moment, his voice low and cool: “What’s wrong, can’t lift your hand?”

“Yeah.” Xia Liyang blinked, trying to look pitiful.

“You’re able to pull my sleeve, aren’t you?” Lu Huaicheng said, the corner of his lips curling in a smile that was neither a smile nor a frown.

“…” Xia Liyang felt a bit embarrassed and bit her lip.

Damn! She really was muddled from the fever.

She hadn’t even realized the contradiction in her logic.

Seeing her slightly awkward expression, her pale, delicate face flushed with a sickly hue.

Lu Huaicheng suppressed the teasing in his gaze and, with a warm voice, offered her an out: “Are you afraid you can’t hold it steady and spill it on the bed?”

“Yes, yes, yes, that’s what I meant…” Xia Liyang laughed awkwardly, quickly following his lead.

“Come a little closer.” Lu Huaicheng held the bowl in one hand and pulled a chair from the dressing table in front of her, sitting at the edge of her bed.

Xia Liyang shifted her position a bit awkwardly, leaning closer to him.

“Open your mouth.” He scooped a spoonful of soup and brought it to her lips.

Though she had suggested it, she had never let anyone feed her before.

Now that he was actually following her request, she felt a little awkward, her eyelashes fluttering as she opened her mouth hesitantly.

Worried that she might spill if she got too close, she decided to just take the spoon into her mouth.

But she forgot that this was a bowl of freshly made soup.

And she had no idea how many slices of ginger were inside.

The spiciness, combined with the heat, nearly sent her over the edge.

Tears instantly welled up in her eyes, and she spat the entire mouthful of soup onto his hand.

The air instantly became still.

It was over.

She was done for.

Xia Liyang paused her breath, struggling to raise her tear-filled eyes, feeling awkward and fearful as she hesitantly glanced at Lu Huaicheng, who was still holding the spoon.

The yellow ginger soup slid down his knuckles and finally dripped onto the solid wooden floor beside the bed.

His lips twitched slightly, and his expression became somewhat stiff.

It seemed he had never expected to be spat on by someone one day.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Lu! I didn’t mean to! Uh, here, let me help you wipe it…” Xia Liyang flusteredly looked around, hurriedly grabbing a few tissues from the bedside table and awkwardly trying to wipe his hand.

“Forget it, I’ll do it myself.” Lu Huaicheng relaxed his brows slightly, putting down the bowl in his other hand and lightly catching her wrist.

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t expect it to be that spicy, and when it burned me, I just couldn’t hold back…” Xia Liyang fluttered her long lashes anxiously.

“Hmm, it’s my fault for not reminding you.” He released her wrist gently, his tone flat with no hint of emotion.

Xia Liyang couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or comforting her, feeling a bit nervous as she replied, “No, no, I’m definitely not blaming you; it’s my own fault for not thinking clearly.”

Lu Huaicheng dried his hands, standing up calmly and glancing at her increasingly flushed face.

His eyes shifted slightly, and with a warm smile, he said, “It’s fine, I’ll go wash my hands and come back to continue.”

“Um… I’ll just drink it myself,” Xia Liyang said with an awkward smile, shifting her body further towards the edge of the bed. Her slender, fair legs stretched out from the blanket and dangled lightly at the edge of the bed.

“Aren’t you cold? Why are you sticking your legs out?” Lu Huaicheng glanced over, frowning slightly.

“Drinking the ginger soup should warm me up!” Xia Liyang pursed her lips, hastily picking up the soup he had placed on the bedside table. She scooped a spoonful, blew on it, and then put it in her mouth.

However, the spiciness of the ginger soup hadn’t diminished at all, causing her face to scrunch up again. She closed her eyes, struggling to swallow.

This is ridiculous.

How many slices of ginger did this man put in here?!

How could it be so spicy?!

Xia Liyang raged inwardly, and when she opened her eyes, she met Lu Huaicheng’s subtle expression.

“Is drinking ginger soup really like asking for your life?” he asked quietly.

“…Maybe I can’t handle spicy food very well, so I find it a bit too stimulating.” Xia Liyang forced a smile and urged him, “You should go wash your hands; don’t worry about me.”

Lu Huaicheng’s dark eyes lingered on the tear beads glistening at the corners of her eyes for a moment before he looked away.

After confirming that his figure had disappeared at the door, Xia Liyang glanced around, trying to find a place to pour out the hard to swallow ginger soup he had made for her.

After looking around, she aimed for the trash bin next to the dressing table.

She perked up her ears, and after confirming she could hear the sound of running water from the bathroom, she quickly rolled off the bed and rushed to the trash bin with the ginger soup.

To avoid arousing Lu Huaicheng’s suspicion about how she could drink it so quickly, she only poured out half.

She thought she would just grit her teeth and drink the rest herself.

After all, he had put in the effort to make it for her.

After pouring out half a bowl, she nudged the trash bin into a hidden corner, then quickly returned to the bedside and took a symbolic sip from the bowl of ginger soup.

After washing his hands, Lu Huaicheng went over to check the millet porridge still simmering on the stove, confirming that it hadn’t burned or boiled over.

He didn’t have much cooking experience, just relying on intuition to add water and millet.

He also didn’t know the exact recipe proportions that Chen Wanzhen used back in the day for that scallion and ginger soup.

But he felt that since it didn’t taste good, it must have a lot of ginger and scallions.

However, was Xia Liyang’s painful reaction really just because her tolerance was lower than his?

Lu Huaicheng paused slightly, noticing there was still some ginger soup left in the pot. He scooped some up with a spoon and tasted it.

The next second, he furrowed his brows and immediately spit it all into the sink.

Then he strode back to the bedroom and glanced at Xia Liyang, who was sitting quietly on the bed, struggling to drink half the ginger soup.

With a complex mood, he took the bowl from her hands.

“Stop drinking.”

Xia Liyang was momentarily taken aback, looking up at him, “Huh?”

“It’s too hard to drink; you can pour it away.” Lu Huaicheng glanced at the trash can in the corner and walked straight over.

Xia Liyang’s nerves tensed, and she hurriedly called out to him, “Wait, wait!”

“What’s wrong?” Lu Huaicheng paused and turned back.

“That’s such a waste! I think it’s not that bad.” She swallowed hard, giving a forced smile, “Besides, it’s made by you, Mr. Lu, so I don’t want to pour it away.”

“It’s okay; I’ll make you a new bowl later.” Lu Huaicheng lowered his eyes, stepping on the trash bin lid to open it.

With no time to stop him, Xia Liyang’s heart raced, and she closed her eyes as if to escape.