Chapter 19.2

Who wouldn’t be curious? Some people just quietly go about their jobs, and suddenly, a truckload of drama rolls in. If not for professional restraint, the nurse would have stayed to find out exactly how frail Lin Jinshen was supposed to be.

“I wasn’t talking about that kind of frail,” Lu Yi whispered, her ears burning.

“Then what kind of frail were you talking about?” Lin Jinshen pressed.

“Just pretend I didn’t say anything. Try to get some rest,” Lu Yi exhaled deeply. He was a patient, after all, so she shouldn’t argue with him.

Lin Jinshen had no chance to rest. His phone kept ringing, and despite his discomfort, he answered every call. He strained his voice to respond concisely, giving directions as clearly as he could.

Watching him struggle, Lu Yi couldn’t do much else but pour him warm water to soothe his throat.

When the IV was finished, Lin Jinshen insisted on going back to work. Lu Yi suggested he not work too late and return home to rest. After all, being sick meant he needed someone around to care for him.

Lin Jinshen stared at her for a moment before eventually agreeing.

At 10 PM, Lin Jinshen arrived home.

He didn’t look much better than he had earlier in the day. After greeting Lu Yi, he went upstairs to take a shower. When she followed later, he was already lying in bed asleep. His face was still flushed with fever, his brows furrowed as if even sleep couldn’t bring him comfort.

Before going to bed, Lu Yi raised the air conditioner temperature to 28 degrees.

Hopefully, that would prevent him from catching a chill again.

Being sick was miserable. In his sleep, his body burned hot, and even breathing felt painful. It was like a non-swimmer being thrown into a deep green lake, water rushing into his mouth and nose. He was drowning, his body sinking heavily, endlessly downward, unsure when he’d hit the bottom. That sense of unease and loss of control filled his mind.

In the midst of his discomfort, Lin Jinshen opened his eyes to see a snow-white ceiling. Slowly turning his head, he recognized the familiar décor and realized he wasn’t in a hotel but at home.

The bedroom was silent, and he was the only one there.

Lin Jinshen glanced at the time—it was already 9 AM. Rarely did he sleep this late. Struggling to get up, he made his way to the bathroom to freshen up.

He had cleared his schedule for Sunday, knowing he needed time to recover. In his current state, forcing himself to work would only be counterproductive. Resting at home seemed like the most practical option.

His pajamas were drenched with sweat from the fever, so he changed into clean loungewear.

When he went downstairs, he heard movement in the kitchen and assumed it was Lu Yi. Taking a few steps toward the kitchen island, he was greeted instead by Aunt Fang, who turned and smiled warmly. “Oh, Mr. Lin, you’re up.”

He nodded, scanning the room for any sign of her. “Where’s Lu Yi?”

“The madam went out,” Aunt Fang explained. “She took Puff along to get a bath. In this summer heat, it’s the perfect time to clean the little rascal.”

Lin Jinshen’s gaze shifted to the corner where the cat bed usually was—empty. There were no mischievous eyes peeking out at him.

Both the person and the cat were gone.

His brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Your voice sounds hoarse, sir,” Aunt Fang said, concerned. “Are you coughing? I can steam some pear with rock sugar for you—it’ll soothe your throat. Are you hungry? There’s fresh wonton I made, or perhaps some light congee?”

“No need.”

Lin Jinshen barely lifted his eyes. “I’m not eating.”

“Losing your appetite when sick is normal, but you really should eat something. I’ll just make some congee, okay?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Without another word, he turned and went back upstairs, leaving Aunt Fang to watch his retreating figure in concern.

He felt unwell.

Even more so than when he had first woken up.

Lu Yi had indeed taken Puff out for a bath at their regular pet grooming salon. Puff wasn’t fond of water, often yowling in protest. Yet, in the hands of the salon owner—a tall, gentle man with a magnetic voice—the usually rowdy cat became docile.

Lu Yi couldn’t help but suspect Puff had a crush on him.

After the bath, Puff was placed in the drying box, looking utterly content as its eyes drooped shut in comfort.

“You’ve spoiled her into a little princess,” the owner joked, wiping his hands clean. “I remember when you first brought her in—she was so tiny. Now she’s a little round ball.”

“Keep your voice down; Princess Puff doesn’t like hearing such things,” Lu Yi laughed. “She’s on a diet now.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s working yet,” the owner said with a smile. Then his gaze lingered on her hand. “You’re married now?” he asked, noticing the ring on her finger.

Lu Yi glanced at her wedding band and nodded. “Yes, about a month ago.”

The owner let out a rueful chuckle. He had once entertained the idea of pursuing her but knew he wasn’t a good match. “I’m curious—what kind of person managed to win you over?”

“He’s hardworking and mature,” Lu Yi said after a moment, choosing her words carefully. It wouldn’t be fair to call Lin Jinshen rigid behind his back.

“He must be a great man. I wish you both happiness.”

“Thank you.”

As she waited for Puff to finish drying, her phone buzzed with a message from Lin Jinshen.

Lin Jinshen: [I feel unwell.]

Just four words. No punctuation.

Lu Yi stared at the message, trying to imagine his state of mind when he sent it. Somehow, her earlier evaluation of him as “mature and steady” felt slightly off.

Perhaps not so steady after all.

When Puff was ready, Lu Yi took her home, still warm and fluffy from the bath. She held the cat close, breathing in its fresh scent.

At home, Aunt Fang approached her immediately. “Mr. Lin woke up earlier. He looked awful and hasn’t eaten a thing.”

Lu Yi frowned. “Nothing at all?”

“Not a bite. I didn’t want to intrude upstairs, so maybe you can check on him?”

“Alright.”

After setting Puff free, Lu Yi went upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door. The room was dim, with the curtains drawn. Lin Jinshen lay on the bed, motionless.

Walking to the bedside, she called softly, “Lin Jinshen?”

He stirred slightly but didn’t respond.

“Lin Jinshen, you need to eat something,” she urged.

“…No,” came his muffled reply.

“Being sick means you need to regain energy. Aunt Fang steamed some pears for you. Even if you’re not hungry, at least have some of the juice,” Lu Yi coaxed gently.

Perhaps annoyed by her persistence, Lin Jinshen turned his back to her, offering her only the back of his head.

“…” He really acted like a child.

Lu Yi wasn’t about to let it slide so easily. She leaned down, intending to grab his shoulder and turn him around. The moment her hand touched his body, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around her waist. Before she could even react, she was pulled onto the bed, her slippers falling to the floor with two distinct “pa-pa” sounds.

She found herself lying face-to-face with Lin Jinshen. His arm pressed firmly against her waist, his cold and stern face just inches away.

Lu Yi’s breath hitched.

“Lin Jinshen.”

“Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” Lin Jinshen frowned. “I can do whatever I want.”

“I’m sick, and you’re at least fifty percent responsible,” he said hoarsely, his voice low and deep, tinged with a hint of accusation.

Lu Yi was utterly confused. What did his illness have to do with her? But she didn’t have time to respond because Lin Jinshen tightened his grip, pulling her against his chest. She was completely enveloped in his arms, his chin resting atop her head.

His body radiated heat like burning embers, making her feel dizzy from the warmth.

“You’re burning up!” Lu Yi exclaimed, feeling as though she was overheating too, as if she might melt any moment.

“Mm.”
Lin Jinshen remained unfazed, stubbornly holding her closer. In a low, raspy voice, he murmured, “I’m very hot.”

“But this feels good.”

Her body was cool, and he greedily wanted to hold her tighter—just a little tighter.