Qin Shuang was dizzily kissed by him in a mess.
Only when she felt his feverish temperature at the center of his forehead did she suddenly remember that he still had a fever.
Qin Shuang pushed him away in a panic, retreated several steps, and hopped off the bed, "He Zhiyao, you're still feverish. I spoke with Doctor Xu on the phone last night, and he said he's coming over to give you an IV at noon. Just lie down, and I'll go get your medicine."
He Zhiyao: "…My fever isn't contagious."
Qin Shuang glared at him: "Do you want to be quarantined?"
He Zhiyao obediently closed his mouth.
Qin Shuang hurried to the bathroom to wash up, went downstairs to make a simple breakfast, ate by herself, and then brought the cooked porridge up to He Zhiyao.
He Zhiyao was lying on the bed, glanced at the bland white porridge, turned his face away, and said, "I'm not hungry."
Not hungry?
