Luo Qiao was already on her way down! But eventually, she thought about it and turned back…
Ming Siran was clearly idiosyncratic. This was a man who would never go to the doctor when he was feeling unwell. He had been like this since their dating days. Once, he was in a delirium from a high fever and yet he insisted on lying down at home. She had to threaten him with a break up before he would even think of going to see the doctor.
He glanced at her. "…I might have a fever."
Ha! She knew it! Only after shooting him a look, she then started to rummage through the drawer where the first-aid kit was kept. After some time, she managed to fish out a thermometer. Holding it up, she came up to him.
"Bend down."
He looked at her for a moment and pursed his lips. Then he bent towards her.
She raised the device to his forehead and looked at the screen, mumbling, "It doesn't look like you have a fever…"
His expression did not change as he said, "It's probably broken."
"Eh, really?"
She didn't think too much about it, but placing a hand on the back of his head, she exerted a little force on it as she tip-toed and placed her own forehead against his.
Ming Siran froze momentarily.
Hmm… Luo Qiao paused.
Realizing what she had done, she quickly drew back. She blinked. Habits can be quite terrifying…
The man slowly straightened himself. Sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, he said casually, "Taking advantage of me."
"…Oh, shut up."
Moments later, she left the room and came back with some medicine for a cold, then placed it on the table with a glass of water. "Take the medicine for now. If you still feel unwell, we'll need to take you to the hospital."
He walked over slowly, picked up the pills and studied them for a moment.
"Take them," she said, looking at him as she pushed the glass of water towards him. "Go to bed after taking it. Rest."
"Go to bed?" He eyed her sleepily and drawled, "Are you coming with me?"
"…"
Just as she turned to go, however, he reached out to grab her wrist and pulled her back towards him. His breath was hot against her face as he spoke in his slightly hoarse voice, "I haven't had breakfast."
"…"
Then he gave her a disapproving look and continued, "It's going to hurt my stomach if I take the medicine on an empty stomach."
…
Apron on, Luo Qiao was stirring the porridge with a taut expression. How did things manage to end up this way? Ex-boyfriends were probably creatures to whom one owed karmic debts?
Sigh. After she scooped the porridge into a bowl, she removed the apron and went upstairs.
When she entered, Ming Siran half-leaned against the headboard of his bed. Clean and minimalist in his white shirt and dark business trousers, his forehead was slightly creased as though from feeling unwell.
Luo Qiao walked in carrying the bowl of porridge and said to him, "Time to eat."
He opened his eyes and glanced at her.
Her heart rate quickened involuntarily and his deep and dark eyes looked towards her.
Placing the bowl on the table, she then lowered her head to pick up the cold medication.
The entire time, his eyes remained on her. Even as she knelt on the carpeted floor, with her pale and soft fingers picking out the pills from the bottle, she could feel his gaze.
It was exceptionally quiet in the room now. After a moment, she sat up calmly and reached out for the bowl of porridge.
After ensuring that he had taken his medicine, Luo Qiao heaved a sigh of relief as though a great mission had been accomplished. She lightly massaged her own shoulders and said, "Alright, I should really go now!"
Wasting no time, she ran out of the room and grabbed her bag.
Ming Siran raised his hand to loosen two of his shirt buttons, then lazily lay his hand on the edge of his ebd. He waited till he heard her walk out of the front door. Then lifting his gaze, he raised one leg and gave the bedside lamp a kick. The lamp fell with an alarming crash.
From downstairs, Luo Qiao heard the noise it made and was stunned. She bolted back in and flew upstairs. "What's the matter? What's happened?"
When she threw open the door, she saw Ming Siran's hand on the edge of the table. He was bent over slightly, looking very weak and sickly.
She hurried over to help him. "Are you feeling that bad? Do you feel really weak?"
He allowed her to help him onto the bed. Then he glanced at her and grunted wearily.