"Stupid dog, go away." Jing Yan walked around Onion blocking the way and strode straight to the bed.
As expected, the dumb woman on the bed was still unconscious. She did not even react when someone came in.
Jing Yan frowned. He wanted to take the thermometer, but he suddenly remembered the soft touch under the dog's paw yesterday. He hesitated for a moment, then put his hand on her forehead.
It was so hot.
He did not even need to use a thermometer to know how serious her illness was.
D*mn it, why is this woman's body so weak! He had already given her the umbrella, so how could she still be so sick?
Jing Yan paced back and forth in front of the bed in frustration. He clenched his fists by his side, as if he had made a great decision.
He suddenly bent down, one hand wrapped around her legs, the other around her shoulders, and held her firmly in his arms.