Although money talks, Meng Tang still felt a bit embarrassed, wearing a troubled expression.
“Isn’t it… inappropriate to always do… that in the car? The driver has to clean up afterward, and it’s quite a hassle for him.”
Song Guantang had been resting his chin on her shoulder, but upon hearing this, he lifted his gaze to look at her, his dark eyes carrying a hint of peculiarity.
Suddenly, he let out a short, low chuckle, laced with heavy mockery.
“I meant sleeping in the literal sense.”
His cool fingertips landed on the corner of her eye, pressing down playfully before he leaned in closer. His deep, dark eyes seemed capable of piercing straight into the depths of her soul in an instant.
“I know you crave my body, but when we’re outside, try not to let your mind wander into such colorful territory.”
Realizing she had misunderstood his words, Meng Tang flushed red across her cheeks—not out of shyness, but anger.
“What are you laughing at? You’re the one with a mind full of colorful thoughts!”
Even a soft persimmon has its temper. If it weren’t for his generous payments, she would have punched him right in that infuriatingly handsome face.
Still laughing!
Meng Tang thrashed in Song Guantang’s arms like a cat with its fur standing on end.
“Stop moving.”
But the man’s arms were like walls of steel—not only could she not break free, but she also ended up exhausted and sweaty from the struggle.
Meng Tang argued vehemently, “If Mr. Song thinks I’m lustful, fine! Starting today, don’t touch me. Let’s draw a line—whoever crosses it is a pig!”
His little wife might be petite, but her temper was anything but mild.
Even the members of the Song family didn’t dare raise their voices at him like this.
But then again, he was the one who had spoiled her.
Still, Song Guantang enjoyed seeing her feisty, lively demeanor—like the most beautiful butterfly trapped in a glass jar.
All her beauty, all her graceful dances, were for his eyes only.
With one arm firmly holding her in place to prevent her from breaking free, Song Guantang picked up his phone with his other hand and tapped the screen with his thumb.
“Alipay payment received: 100,000 yuan.”
Song Guanting said succinctly, “An apology.”
It had to be said, although her sugar daddy often acted aloof, whenever he upset her, he always knew exactly how to make amends—by throwing money at her to earn her forgiveness.
This trick never failed, all because Meng Tang was a money-obsessed miser through and through.
“I’ll reluctantly give you a chance to redeem yourself.”
The delightful sound of money entering her account made Meng Tang stop struggling, and she obediently nestled into Song Guantang’s embrace.
When Song Guanting said he meant sleeping in the literal sense, he truly meant it.
In this strange position of holding her in his arms, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder, his breathing gradually steadied.
Meng Tang strained to glance upward.
Song Guantang’s eyelashes were long and thick, casting a faint shadow over his eyelids.
The slight upward curve at the corners of his eyes gave him the charming shape of peach blossom eyes, captivating to behold.
With his eyes closed now, the usual frosty, distant aura was hidden away, making him seem less aloof and unapproachable.
His nose was tall and straight, his lips thin and tinged with a faint red. Sleeping peacefully like this, he even seemed a bit more docile.
Had he really fallen asleep just like that?
Was there something wrong with him? Did he have to hold her to sleep?
It wasn’t that Meng Tang was overthinking things, but every time she shared a bed with Song Guantang, even if nothing happened, he would always hold her while sleeping.
This made Meng Tang feel as though she were nothing more than a human-shaped pillow.The car had been parked at Cloud Peak Mansion for a while.
However, Meng Tang had specifically instructed the driver not to wake Song Guantang. After all, her generous benefactor worked hard outside to earn money, some of which was spent on her.
If you want a horse to run fast, you have to feed it grass at the right time.
This simple and straightforward principle was something Meng Tang had mastered with ease.
Originally, Meng Tang had intended to let Song Guantang sleep for another ten minutes or so. But as she waited, having barely slept all night, she unknowingly tilted her head and drifted off.
When Song Guantang opened his eyes again, he saw his little wife’s delicate and lovely face nestled against his chest. Her palm-sized oval face was soft and serene, sleeping without a hint of guard.
Gently, he wrapped her in his cloak and then carried her out of the car.
In her dazed state, Meng Tang thought she heard someone speaking.
She tried to open her eyes but found her eyelids heavy, unable to lift them no matter how hard she tried. Her mind felt muddled and sluggish.
“Thirty-eight point seven degrees. Madam likely has a high fever caused by exposure to cold. Let’s start with two IV drips. If the fever subsides today, it shouldn’t be a serious issue.”
The family doctor had been urgently summoned to Cloud Peak Mansion early in the morning.
Faced with the grim-faced Mr. Song, the family doctor didn’t dare to breathe too loudly.
Song Guantang’s gaze remained fixed on Meng Tang. Upon hearing the family doctor’s words, he merely responded with a cold “Hmm.”
“Be gentle when inserting the needle. She’s afraid of pain.”
It was only when the family doctor was about to administer the IV that Song Guantang spoke up.
Meng Tang woke up just as the needle was being inserted. She was prone to fainting at the sight of needles, but this time, before she could even see what was on the back of her hand, a slender, jade-like hand covered her eyes first.
“Don’t move. You have a fever and need an IV drip.”
Meng Tang’s vision went dark again. Her mind was still foggy from sleep, and she simply blinked twice, allowing Song Guantang to cover her eyes in a daze.
Her thick eyelashes brushed lightly against his palm, like a small, soft brush.
It felt like a cat’s paw, inadvertently scratching at his heart.
A sharp pain suddenly shot through the back of her hand, and Meng Tang instinctively flinched.
But her wrist was held firmly in place, unable to move. Fortunately, the pain was fleeting, and the needle was quickly inserted.
Only then did Song Guantang remove his hand. The sudden return of light made Meng Tang squint her almond-shaped eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
She tried to speak but found her throat too dry to produce any sound. She could only press her parched lips together with difficulty.
As if reading her mind, Song Guantang turned to pour a glass of warm water and brought it to her lips.
Meng Tang raised her hand to take it, but Song Guantang wouldn’t let her move.
“You have an IV in. Don’t move around, or the blood might flow back.”
Meng Tang obediently murmured “Okay” and drank from the glass held by Song Guantang.
She was very thirsty, but Song Guantang didn’t let her drink too much at once. Instead, he encouraged her to take small sips to avoid choking.
After drinking, her mind slowly cleared, and Meng Tang belatedly realized something.
Her left hand had the IV needle, but her right hand was free—she could have easily held the glass herself.
“Sir, the millet porridge is ready.”
A maid knocked and entered the room.
Song Guantang took the bowl. “The doctor said you have a fever and shouldn’t eat anything too greasy. Finish this porridge first, then get some rest. Once the fever breaks, you’ll be fine.”
Meng Tang looked at the bland, watery porridge. With her fever, she couldn’t feel any hunger at all.”I don’t want to eat, I have no appetite.”
Song Guantang was firm: “No.”
When ill, one’s emotions are inevitably more fragile than usual.
Meng Tang blinked, and immediately a pool of tears welled up in her eyes, shimmering and wavering, looking utterly pitiful.
“You’re being mean to me!”