Chapter 51

Chapter 51

The study door was pushed open, the room was pitch dark, with only the bedside lamp glowing.

Pei Qingji, propped up against the bed, frowned deeply, his face pale, coughing uncontrollably.

"Sir, it's time to take your medicine." A servant carefully brought in the brown, bitter-smelling medicine.

Pei Qingji coughed lowly a few more times, catching the bitter scent of the medicine, his frown deepening. "I'm not taking it."

"Sir, please, just take a sip." The servant urged.

His brows furrowed deeper, irritation creeping in, and he said in a low, stern voice, "I said I'm not taking it."

"Sir, just a little bit more." The servant tried again.

Then came a sharp crack as the medicine bowl shattered on the floor.

Pei Qingji's icy voice followed. "Get out."

The servant had no choice but to sigh, quickly clean up the mess, and walk out of the room, shaking their head.

"No luck—sir still won't take it."

The doctor was frantic, his face contorted with worry, pacing back and forth.

"If the young master won't take his medicine, what are we supposed to do? How am I supposed to explain this to Old Master Pei?"

That's right—the doctor had been sent by Old Master Pei.

"A high fever is no joke—even with the IV drip, he still has to take the medicine."

"This medicine is bitter, but it works fast."

The doctor was at his wits' end.

Downstairs, Cheng Yuan, sitting on the sofa, took the warm water a servant handed him, his expression calm, and took a few sips.

Because the villa's living room was spacious and open, almost everything said upstairs could be heard clearly.

The servants couldn't help but mutter among themselves, their tones tinged with worry, since Pei Qingji was usually good to them.

"Sigh, what's sir going to do now? I wonder why he won't take his medicine."

"Ma'am, is there anything else you need?"

Cheng Yuan didn't respond, only his thick, long lashes trembled slightly.

He actually knew why Pei Qingji wouldn't take his medicine.

Since childhood, Pei Qingji had suffered from a pheromone imbalance, and as a kid, he was either at the hospital or taking handfuls of medicine every day.

Those medicines were often very bitter, and they might have stirred up bad memories. Combined with the high fever, it made him extremely resistant.

Just as the doctor was at his wits' end, a familiar voice suddenly came from behind.

"I'll take care of it."

The doctor was startled. "Ma'am! What are you doing here?"

"You... you mean it? You're really willing to help him? But will he listen to you..."

He stopped mid-sentence, remembering how much the young master doted on his wife.

"That's wonderful—do you need anything?"

Cheng Yuan nodded, which served as his answer.

But as he lowered his head, his eyes were icy cold, devoid of emotion.

He said flatly, "Go get some water."

"And bring the medicine too."

The servant, snapping out of their shock, quickly agreed.

The medicine Pei Qingji had knocked over had to be remade, which would take some time.

Cheng Yuan stood at the door and paused for a moment.

As he walked into the room, a cold voice greeted him.

"Didn't I tell you not to come in?"

His expression went cold.

"It's me."

Pei Qingji was momentarily taken aback.

"You really want me to go?"

He still hadn't processed it.

"Then I'm leaving."

"Don't go."

The man in bed immediately sat up, not even bothering to put on his shoes, rushed over, and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't leave."

He was tall, with a cooling patch still on his forehead, his face flushed, and his eyes full of grievance.

Pei Qingji's tone was almost pleading.

Maybe the fever had fried his brain, or maybe he didn't even remember who he was.

Because normally, he would never act like this or show such a vulnerable side.

Cheng Yuan glanced at the hand gripping his wrist, then looked away and said flatly, "I won't leave, but get back in bed."

Pei Qingji seemed reluctant, his eyes reddening, his tone tinged with stubbornness.

"Then you have to promise me you won't leave."

Cheng Yuan suddenly noticed how clingy he'd become, and his expression went cold.

Pei Qingji caught a glimpse of his expression and lowered his eyes in disappointment.

"Then I'm really leaving..."

Cheng Yuan couldn't understand why he was making such a fuss—he was just telling him to go back and rest, not saying goodbye forever. He gave a faint "Mm" in response.

He kept glancing back every few steps, only relaxing once he confirmed Cheng Yuan wasn't following.

It seemed his mind wasn't fully clear—probably the fever had truly addled his brain.

Cheng Yuan said coldly, "Lie down properly."

"Are you sure you won't leave?" Pei Qingji carefully tugged at his sleeve.

Cheng Yuan had no idea why he was being so talkative, and only said coldly, "Say another word and I'm out of here."

Pei Qingji immediately withdrew his hand and didn't dare speak again.

Just then, someone knocked and came in.

"Master, Madam, may I come in?"

Pei Qingji's brows furrowed tightly at the voice.

"Don't let him come in."

"Why not?"

"If he comes in, you won't just look at me anymore."

Cheng Yuan: "..."

What kind of logic is that?

He ignored the words Pei Qingji had spoken in his feverish state.

Cheng Yuan looked toward the door and said coolly, "Come in."

The servant brought the medicine over.

As he approached, the bitter smell of the medicine became noticeable.

Pei Qingji's brows were tightly knit, his voice tinged with a grumble.

"I don't want to drink it. It's too bitter."

A grown man scared of bitter medicine?

Cheng Yuan paused for a moment.

"Are you going to drink it or not? If not, I'm leaving now."

The word "leaving" seemed to hit him hard. Though reluctant, he nodded and said quickly.

"I'll drink it, okay?"

Seeing that one word from the madam had the master obediently drinking his medicine, the servant felt a huge relief.

Then they quickly took the empty bowl away.

Pei Qingji's brows were tightly furrowed, the bitter taste spreading through his mouth, making him grimace.

"Can he go now?"

Cheng Yuan: "..." He was still fixated on that.

The servant, sensing the mood, wisely took their leave and even thoughtfully closed the door behind them.

He handed him the glass of water from the nightstand.

Pei Qingji took a few sips, and only then did the bitter taste fade.

Before long, another servant came in, quickly set up the water that had been prepared earlier, and left just as swiftly.

A basin of hot water was placed on the nightstand, with a towel soaking in it.

The water was neither too hot nor too cold.

Cheng Yuan gently wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Pei Qingji's eyes widened a little, as if he couldn't believe it.

A flicker of light passed through his eyes.

"Don't move."

Cheng Yuan said in a cold voice.

Pei Qingji immediately didn't dare move, feeling his head spin, wondering if he was dreaming.

Maybe the fever was making him hallucinate.

Cheng Yuan's eyes were filled with complicated emotions.

He didn't know how to treat this person right now.

He had gone out in the rain because of him, and that's why he had a high fever.

The guilt was weighing on his conscience, making him uncomfortable.

He wondered if he was being too cruel, but what he had done couldn't be undone by any of this.

Pei Qingji kept holding his hand, refusing to let go.

Cheng Yuan just watched silently, for once not pulling his hand away, just letting him hold it.

He sat nearby, and before long—maybe because he was exhausted from the day or because of the illness—Pei Qingji fell asleep.

Cheng Yuan looked down, but the hand gripping his was held so tightly he couldn't pry it open even if he tried.

"Pei Qingji, let go."

He reminded him coldly.

But Pei Qingji seemed not to hear at all, instead gripping even tighter.

Cheng Yuan pressed his lips together and looked up at Pei Qingji, who had fallen asleep.

His brows were furrowed tightly, his sleep anything but peaceful.

Cheng Yu'an was about to pry his hand away, but froze mid-motion.

Pei Qingji's brow grew even more furrowed, as if he was dreaming about something bad, his eyes gradually starting to get red.

Cheng Yu'an leaned in to hear better.

It sounded like he was saying.

"Don't go..."

"Please, don't go."

"An'an, I was wrong."

His voice was incredibly humble and pleading, with a trace of hesitance.

Was he dreaming about me?

Cheng Yu'an fell silent for a moment, his eyes downcast.

He stared at Pei Qingji in silence for a good while, then left.

Just then, the servants heard the sound of the door opening and all looked over.

Cheng Yu'an pressed his lips together and explained, "He's asleep."

The servants said excitedly.

"That's really great. Thank you so much, ma'am. If it weren't for you, Mr. Pei would have been in serious danger this time."

But Cheng Yu'an didn't seem too happy about it, just giving a faint "mm" in response, his gaze betraying nothing.

The next morning when he woke up, Pei Qingji found his head didn't hurt as much.

But he had a vague recollection of some hazy events.

It seemed like he'd seen Cheng Yu'an last night.

Must've been a dream.

Pei Qingji tried to recall last night, but because he was sick, he couldn't remember much of it.

He cast his eyes down and gave a bitter, helpless smile.

Even if he did help him yesterday, it was only because Pei Qingji had gotten soaked in the rain for his sake. He must have felt guilty, so he took care of him.

Pei Qingji took a deep breath, pulled himself together, and got out of bed to wash up.

His fever had finally gone down, and the doctor said his fever shouldn't come back today.

Pei Qingji glanced at the black and white clock hanging on the wall.

Time to start on breakfast.

He hurried up and headed downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Pei Qingji decided to make a simple sandwich with a fried egg, some luncheon meat, and lettuce, topped with a squeeze of salad dressing.

He also had a glass of milk and a goose egg about the size of his fist.

He usually did the cooking whenever he had the time, only letting the chef take over when he didn't.

Sometimes, when his cooking didn't turn out well, he'd go to the chef to learn and ask for advice.

When Pei Qingji got to the kitchen, his head still felt a bit heavy, but he didn't think much of it, figuring he hadn't fully recovered yet.

He definitely still had a bit of a cold left over.

Cheng Yu'an woke up at his usual time and opened his eyes, and when he got downstairs, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He noticed a familiar figure in the kitchen, right then wearing an apron and making breakfast.

As if he heard something behind him, he immediately turned around and smiled at him.

"An'an, breakfast's ready."

Cheng Yu'an was taken aback for a moment.

Author's note:

None