Ming Yao exerted the strength of nine bulls and two tigers to help the man up to the master bedroom on the second floor.
She grabbed a pillow for him so he could lean against the headboard.
She placed her fingers on his wrist and took his pulse for him.
It seemed he really was suffering from a stomachache.
"Where's the stomach medicine?"
The man had his eyes closed, his sword-like eyebrows tightly furrowed, and a few drops of cold sweat were still trickling down his handsome face, looking agonizingly uncomfortable.
Upon hearing Ming Yao's words, he gently lifted his eyelids.
"In the bedside table."
Ming Yao quickly found the stomach medicine and went out to bring in a cup of warm water.
She handed the medicine and water to the man.
The man did not reach out to take them, his dark eyes slowly moving up from her legs.
Finally, they settled on her bright yet coldly enchanting face.
She seemed to have lost some weight.
"Why have you lost weight?" he asked in a husky voice.
