Lin Mian woke briefly when her fever dropped to 38 degrees Celsius.
A female nurse was sitting by the bed and asked in heavily accented speech if she wanted something to eat upon seeing her awake.
Lin Mian’s eyelids burned with feverish pain. She rolled her swollen eyes, looking around.
She was in an unfamiliar room that resembled a private ward, equipped with some basic medical instruments but nothing else.
Lin Mian drank some water, ate a bowl of porridge, and used the bathroom.
She lay back down, her head still throbbing painfully, her whole body feeling heavy and sluggish. The curtains were half-open, revealing a sliver of light at the foot of the bed.
Through the gap, Lin Mian could see a dense forest outside, with a road cutting through it.
Occasionally, vehicles sped past on the road.
Lin Mian stared blankly for a while before closing her eyes again amidst the persistent headache and drifting back to sleep.
She didn’t want to dream of the past anymore.
This time, Lin Mian slept lightly. Her mind drifted through many fragmented, blurry memories, her body alternating between hot and cold chills.
In her half-asleep state, she vaguely sensed someone approaching the bedside.
That person placed a hand on her forehead to check her temperature.
Lin Mian jolted awake from her dream. Opening her eyes, she saw a somewhat familiar face—the family doctor.
He smiled at her and asked, “How are you feeling now?”
Lin Mian lowered her gaze, assessing herself. Her body felt sticky, but her head no longer hurt much.
“You still have a slight fever. Your blood test results are back—it’s not the flu… This illness was caused by exhaustion. Your body couldn’t handle it all at once. Make sure to rest properly in the coming days.”
The doctor asked, “Are you hungry? Should I get you something to eat?”
Lin Mian nodded.
This illness had come on suddenly and subsided just as quickly. By the next day, her fever had mostly subsided, leaving only the lingering weakness that follows recovery.
She stayed in the medical room until evening. After dinner, Uncle Jixiang escorted her back to her bedroom to rest.
The interior of the manor villa was truly vast, and Lin Mian still wasn’t familiar with the way back. As she gazed at the oil paintings on the walls, Uncle Jixiang spoke up, “While you were receiving IV fluids, I called the young master. He promised to come back to see you.”
Lin Mian paused, recalling the vague sensation she had felt in her dazed state, and replied indifferently, “Oh, did he come back then?”
Uncle Jixiang shook his head. “Although the young master agreed, he might have been too busy… But he does care about you. He said you are his most beloved first love.”
Lin Mian listened expressionlessly.
Uncle Jixiang suddenly turned to look at her and asked, “You don’t seem to agree with that.”
Lin Mian said, “On his list of favorites, I can only rank third at best.”
Uncle Jixiang chuckled and said, “But to him, you are different from the others, aren’t you?”
Was that true?
Lin Mian didn’t know anymore.
Not wanting to continue the topic, she asked, “Has he not returned yet?”
Uncle Jixiang hesitated for a moment before replying, “He’s back. He’s with Miss Meizhu.”
Lin Mian: Hah, men.
Lin Mian returned to the guest room and took a shower. Her head felt heavy and foggy, and even showering felt exhausting.
Having slept all day again, she wondered if she’d be able to fall asleep later.
After putting on comfortable pajamas, Lin Mian slowly dried her hair and then began examining the array of skincare products on the vanity.
All of them were high-end brands she couldn’t afford on her own—just this collection alone likely cost six figures.
No use letting them go to waste. After applying products to her face and neck, Lin Mian also smoothed body lotion all over.
Freshly fragrant, she opened the bathroom door and stepped out, only to freeze in her tracks.
An uninvited guest was lying on her bed.
He Duoye wore a black bathrobe, his long, powerful legs crossed casually. His firm chest was partially exposed as he played with his phone, lounging arrogantly and naturally on the bed.
“You’re sick and still took such a long shower?” He Duoye glanced up at her, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You really don’t take care of yourself. If you get sick again, it’ll be my loss.”
Lin Mian felt miserable—even when she was sick, she had to endure her hateful, scummy ex-boyfriend.
“Weren’t you in Meizhu’s room? What are you doing here?”
Surely he didn’t plan to sleep with one woman and then move on to another?
How disgusting.
He Duoye leaned against the headboard and beckoned her over. “Come here.”
Lin Mian didn’t move, not wanting to get any closer.
He Duoye watched her for a moment before slowly sitting up with a smile, his long legs planted on the carpet. He must have been working out these past few years—the muscles in his calves and thighs were clearly defined, radiating a fierce, explosive strength.
His bathrobe hung slightly open, his posture both arrogant and provocative.
He looked at Lin Mian. With his sharp bone structure and deep, intense eyes, his half-smile gave off an elusive sense of danger.
“Do you want me to come get you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lin Mian knew he was serious, so she reluctantly walked over.
She stopped in front of He Duoye, who grabbed her wrist and pulled her between his legs.
He reached up and touched Lin Mian’s forehead, as if checking her temperature.
Lin Mian lowered her gaze, meeting He Duoye’s eyes as they locked onto hers.
They say eye contact is a form of soul communication that transcends language—it can bridge verbal and physical distances, creating an illusion of intimate, intertwined souls.
In this quiet moment, it seemed as though his attention was solely on her.
He Duoye’s large hand cupped half of Lin Mian’s face, his long fingers brushing against her soft earlobe as if cradling her head.
He leaned up to kiss her.
The moment their lips touched, Lin Mian snapped back to reality and turned her head away.
“Don’t kiss me with the same mouth you just used on someone else.”
He Duoye’s fingers traced her earlobe. “How do you know I kissed someone else? Did you see it?”
Lin Mian: “…Didn’t you just go to your ‘first wife’s’ room?”
He Duoye chuckled. “First wife—you’re quite creative with names.”
Lin Mian glared at him.
This scumbag was really infuriating. Was now the time to debate names like “first wife,” “second wife,” or “third wife”?
“I did go to her room,” He Duoye said, playing with Lin Mian’s hair. “Are you jealous?”
Jealousy wasn’t the right word—it felt more like disgust, as if she’d eaten… never mind, she wouldn’t use that word to describe herself.
Lin Mian got straight to the point. “The condition for you sending me home was to sleep with you, right?”
He Duoye looked at her but didn’t respond.
Lin Mian continued, “I don’t know how long you want me to stay, but during that time, I hope you won’t get involved with other women.”
He Duoye remained unmoved. “If you’re making demands, what are you offering in return?”
Lin Mian was speechless.
Yes, how could she have forgotten?
She and he were no longer the couple they had been four years ago.
Now, they were in the relationship of a bastard gang leader and a weak victim—she should obediently listen.
But the thought of He Duoye moving between several women was truly disgusting.
After a moment of silence, Lin Mian asked, “What do you want?”
He Duoye stroked the side of Lin Mian’s neck, his tone carrying a possessive ambiguity as he asked, “What do you have now, Mianmian?”