The hair dryer was too loud; Jiang Ji didn’t hear her.
He tilted his head. ”What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
She’d thought that after drinking the ginger tea and drying his hair, everything would be fine.
But to her surprise, Jiang Ji still came down with a fever.
The moment Su Qian’s hand touched his forehead, she felt the heat. A sickly flush had risen on his pale face.
“You’re burning up. Do you have a thermometer?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll go down and get mine.”
“461118.”
“What?”
“The door lock code.”
Su Qian froze for a moment.
When she got back with the thermometer, she had Jiang Ji tuck it under his arm.
Sensing his reluctance, she explained gently, “Don’t worry, it’s new. I bought it a while ago but never got sick, so it’s never been used. Or should we go to the hospital?”
Jiang Ji leaned back on the sofa and said quietly, ”Then turn around.”
“Okay.”
Su Qian turned her back. At first there was the sound of rustling fabric.
But then it fell silent for a long while.
When Su Qian turned back, she saw that the sash of Jiang Ji’s blue bathrobe had come undone at the waist, exposing one shoulder. His chest was full and firm, his waist narrow, his abs and V-line clearly defined, tinged with a faint pink.
Perhaps he’d felt too miserable—he had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on the sofa’s armrest.
Su Qian looked away and helped pull the robe’s collar closed.
Five minutes later, the time was up.
Seeing that Jiang Ji was sleeping soundly, she hesitated, then decided not to wake him. Carefully, she slipped her hand into the collar of the blue bathrobe.
The next second, those tightly closed eyes snapped open.
“Su Qian, so you really do have designs on me?”
Su Qian laughed in exasperation. “Are you running a sting operation here?”
Jiang Ji lazily propped himself up and pulled out the mercury thermometer.
Su Qian glanced at it.
“Thirty-eight point five. Not bad—not a high fever. Some fever reducers should bring it down.”
With that, Su Qian took out a bag of medicine and spread it on the coffee table.
All of it was from her home, still unopened.
Jiang Ji didn’t understand. “Why did you buy so much medicine?”
“Better safe than sorry.”
Living alone in a big city, the thing you fear most is getting sick.
A few years ago, Su Qian caught that global pandemic. She was alone in her rented apartment at the time, truly with no one to turn to, her throat hurting every day as if it held razor blades.
One night, her fever hit 40 degrees.
She thought she was probably going to die, so she called her parents.
The call went through, but before they could exchange more than a few words, their attention was pulled away by the children of their new families.
You can lecture someone a hundred times and it won’t stick; one hard lesson teaches them instantly.
From then on, Su Qian’s medicine cabinet was always full, and so was her fridge.
Better safe than sorry.
She said those four words lightly.
Jiang Ji’s brow twitched slightly.
Boring. He’d thought Su Qian would use the chance to play the victim.
“What medicine do you usually take?” Su Qian poured a glass of warm water, then suddenly felt something furry brushing against her foot.
She looked down. It was a cat.
Not a foreign breed, but a lion cat.
Its fur was snow-white all over, with one yellow eye and one blue, and a pink little nose—like a fairy.
“Oh, Jiang Ji, you have a cat!”
“Mm.”
“Is it hungry?”
“Mm.”
The kitten was shy, so on her previous visits it had hidden itself away.
But today Jiang Ji was sick and had forgotten to refill the cat food. The kitten was so hungry it was mewing pitifully, nudging its head against her calf over and over.
Jiang Ji was about to take the water glass, but Su Qian set it down and picked up the cat instead.
Jiang Ji frowned, took the glass himself, and swallowed his medicine.
Cold medicine always came with drowsiness as a side effect.
He flopped back onto the sofa.
He had meant to drive Su Qian out, but she wasn’t beside him anymore—she’d followed the plump little cat, with its swaying tail, into the second bedroom.
That was the cat’s room.
Jiang Ji was allergic to cat fur, so he had converted the second bedroom into a cat room, and every time he went in to feed the cat, he would put on a mask first.
But Su Qian didn’t need to.
His eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.
He didn’t know how long had passed when Su Qian’s voice woke him.
She seemed very close to him.
“Baby, how are you so pretty!”
“Can I give you a kiss?”
“If you don’t say no, that means yes!”
“……”
“No.”
Jiang Ji’s body covered his mouth before his brain could catch up.
But when he opened his eyes, he met two pairs of eyes staring at him.
Su Qian was sitting on the single armchair, holding up the little cat. Because of his sudden outburst, she and the cat both turned to look at him.
So she’d been asking the cat for a kiss…
“You’re awake.” Seeing him wake, Su Qian’s eyes sparkled. She set the cat down for the moment and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.
“The fever’s not so bad now. Want some more water?”
Jiang Ji shrank back. “Why are you still here?”
“I was afraid you’d die on me and I’d be out a boyfriend.”
“Who’s your boyfriend?”
“You are.” Su Qian hugged the cat. “He’s so well-behaved. What’s his name?”
“Cat.”
“Huh?”
Jiang Ji pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t you leaving yet?”
Su Qian stood up. “Then rest well. I’ll head back.”
“Wait.”
“What, going to miss me?”
“Put the cat back in the room.”
“Why?” Su Qian picked up the little cat and touched its paw to Jiang Ji’s face. “He’s so cute.”
Jiang Ji dodged away. “Because I’m allergic.”
“You’re allergic and you still keep a cat?” Su Qian paused. “A gift from your ex-girlfriend?”
“Bang—”
A throw pillow hit the floor hard, hurled by Jiang Ji. “You’re so annoying. Just leave already!”
If the usual Jiang Ji still minded his manners and composure, a sick Jiang Ji was more like a child.
Su Qian lowered her head and quietly carried the cat back into the room.
Under the sparse light, the shape of his shoulder blades showed through his thin shirt.
He was thinner than the night they first met.
“Ji, rest well. I’m going now.”
Just as she was about to walk out the door, Jiang Ji spoke again.
“It’s a stray.”
“What?”
“It’s a stray cat from the neighborhood. It kept rubbing against me, latched onto me, so I brought it home.”
Su Qian blinked, stunned.
“Is that… an explanation? Explaining that this cat has nothing to do with your ex-girlfriend?”
“Think whatever you want.”
The smile returned to Su Qian’s lips as she launched into her daily question.
“Ji, will you agree to be my boyfriend today?”
The answer came in the form of another throw pillow.
But it was soft and fluffy, thrown without any real force.