Chapter 26

Chapter 26

*

Actually, she had speculated more than once whether there was some other hidden reason Yin Jihong was delaying his trip to Xinjiang, besides needing to negotiate with A+. After all, she believed that if there were even the slightest possibility, he wouldn't be willing to miss this trip.

But she never imagined that the real reason he was late was because he had been running a high fever that wouldn't subside, enduring it for days.

"If he had any choice at all, he would never have let anyone but himself accompany you to Xinjiang. Coming to me was his last resort—otherwise, he wouldn't even want me anywhere near you."

Chen Yuanshan, seeing her red-rimmed eyes and utterly dejected state, tried to lighten the mood with a few jokes, but they had little effect.

Jin Mo's eyes remained red, her gaze heavy, her voice thick with lingering sobs: "Then why wouldn't he just tell me the truth?"

"Because he didn't want you to know! First, he was afraid you'd worry about him. Second, he was afraid you'd think he was pathetic. Men—their pride is bigger than anything."

Chen Yuanshan forcibly swallowed the second half of that sentence—"especially in front of the girl they like"—and added with a wry smile, "Well, now he's gone and fainted right in front of you. This 'Sleeping Beauty' bit was late, but it finally made its entrance."

Her lips trembled slightly, her voice so faint it was barely audible: "...A fever that won't break for days—doesn't that scare him? Why won't he see a proper doctor?"

Chen Yuanshan shrugged: "I couldn't talk sense into him. He always thought he was invincible, and he was killing himself trying to wrap up negotiations with A+ just to get here to you faster. And don't blame Cheng Shu for keeping it from you—he couldn't talk sense into him either, and trying just got him chewed out."

Jin Mo closed her eyes briefly, the redness deepening, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and heartache: "He's clearly in this condition, and instead of resting properly in S City, he insists on pushing himself to come all the way to Xinjiang for me. Does he think I'd be happy if he treated his own health like a joke?"

Chen Yuanshan let out a soft sigh, and seeing her like this, refrained from further teasing.

"Don't be angry with him either. This bastard is a lost cause."

After a pause, he added flatly, with meaning:

"In every sense of the word."

-

The medical team Chen Yuanshan had brought in was seriously impressive—they could've opened a mini hospital on the spot.

Since a hospital wouldn't be any more comfortable than the hotel, they brought Yin Jihong straight back to the hotel instead.

This Young Master of the Yin family was used to being treated like royalty—back in S City, he never went to a doctor; they always came to him. If they'd taken him to a local hospital, he'd probably wake up and start complaining about everything, being all picky, making it even harder to get him to cooperate with treatment.

Jin Mo immediately had the medical staff move Yin Jihong into her room for treatment, and she stayed by his side the whole time.

The doctor told Jin Mo that his illness wasn't actually serious—not some aggressive virus, just a regular cold with a fever. But because he'd gone days without treatment—no meds, no IV—and refused to rest for even a second, his body couldn't flush out the toxins, which is why the fever kept recurring and wouldn't break.

"Now that he's finally down for the count, it's actually a good thing. Now he can get IV fluids and take his meds on schedule—he should break the fever soon. He has a good constitution."

Hearing this, the weight on Jin Mo's heart finally eased a little.

She stayed by Yin Jihong's bedside, asking the doctor in detail about his dosage, dietary restrictions, and all the precautions for caring for him—without even sparing a thought for her own frostbite.

In the end, it was Chen Yuanshan who couldn't stand it anymore and stepped in to persuade her: "Mo Mo, please don't make your big bro Yuanshan's life harder. One person down is already enough of a headache. If you don't behave and let the doctor check your frostbite, and you collapse too, I might as well just dig my own grave."

Then he added, with exaggerated seriousness: "You know what this Young Master is like. When he wakes up and sees you've collapsed, everyone in this room is in for it. If you won't think of yourself, at least think of me and these doctors."

The medical staff nearby all knew exactly who this legendary Young Master of the Yin family was and how terrifying he could be. They nodded frantically in agreement with Chen Yuanshan.

Jin Mo had no choice but to reluctantly leave Yin Jihong's bedside and follow the medical staff to another guest room in the suite for an examination.

Luck was still on her side. She hadn't been buried under the snow for too long, and Yin Jihong had gotten to her in time, so her frostbite wasn't bad—just a few patches on her legs and some light scrapes on her hands and neck.

That was already the best she could hope for under the circumstances.

The doctor quickly treated her wounds, bandaged her up, gave her recovery instructions, and tactfully left to wait in the living room, leaving the bedroom to her and the unconscious Yin Jihong.

When Jin Mo returned to the bedside, he was still lying there, eyes closed, fast asleep, but his brow was still slightly furrowed.

As if even in his dreams, he was still worried about something.

Her heart softened, and she couldn't help reaching out to gently brush her fingertips across his brow, tenderly smoothing away the furrow.

Only when his brow was completely smooth did she pull back. She then pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and found that the scorching heat had subsided somewhat—no longer as scorching as it had been at the ski resort entrance.

Physical cooling was one of the best ways to bring down a fever. She went to the bathroom, soaked a clean towel in warm water, wrung it out carefully, and came back to gently wipe his body.

It felt like overkill to have the medical staff do it, and she wanted to take care of him herself anyway.

But just as she finished gently wiping his neck and face, a knock came at the bedroom door.

Jin Mo set down the towel and walked over quietly to open it. When she saw who was standing there, she was momentarily taken aback.

Shen Yi had changed into his going-out clothes and was holding a suitcase.

It looked like he was leaving.

"Something urgent came up at home, so I moved my flight up to this afternoon back to S City," Shen Yi said directly, his tone as warm and unhurried as ever. "I came by before I left to check on you and Mr. Yin."

Yin Jihong was all over the news, so it didn't surprise Jin Mo that Shen Yi recognized him. What she didn't notice was how calm Shen Yi's voice was—too calm, as if he'd known all along that the person beside her was Yin Jihong.

Shen Yi's gaze fell on the bandages around her neck and hands, a flicker of concern passing through his eyes: "Have you been checked? How is it?"

"Nothing serious, just a little frostbite. It'll heal soon." She answered him calmly, with a genuine smile. "Thanks for calling the rescue team yesterday and for looking after me. Sorry for all the trouble."

She and Shen Yi weren't really close yet—just starting to build a bit of friendship, a step or two past being strangers. But she could tell that when he'd rushed to save her during the avalanche, his urgency came from genuine worry.

Even though Chen Yuanshan had warned her before, honestly, all things considered, Shen Yi had been good to her.

"Don't mention it." Shen Yi gave her a long, searching look, then his gaze drifted past her to Yin Jihong lying on the bed behind her. A flicker of something complicated crossed his eyes, but he quickly hid it. "Take care of yourselves, and recover soon."

"Hope we meet again."

Jin Mo smiled slightly and nodded: "Yeah, hope we meet again."

-

After Shen Yi left, Jin Mo sent the medical staff and Chen Yuanshan off to eat and rest, then went back to the bedside to continue cooling him down.

After wiping his face, neck, and hands, she ran into a problem.

...Because next, she needed to wipe his body.

He was wearing a turtleneck, which was a pain to take off and put back on. She had no choice but to carefully roll up the hem, inching it up little by little, revealing his chest and stomach.

The last time she'd seen his bare chest was... well, the last time.

The room was eerily quiet, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning.

As she slowly pushed up his sweater, Jin Mo mentally repeated to herself: Jin Mo, just pretend you're a real doctor. Stay calm and focused. He's just a patient right now—you're only taking care of him. No weird, unnecessary thoughts.

And yet, when the towel glided over his firm, muscular chest, her cheeks turned red despite herself.

Even through the thick towel, she could clearly feel the defined lines of his muscles—solid and powerful, radiating pure masculine energy.

And lower still, his taut abdomen, with faintly visible abs and a V-line curving downward—tantalizing enough to make her heart race, impossible not to imagine the explosive power hidden in that body.

Jin Mo's wiping got slower and slower. She didn't even dare look at him, keeping her face turned away the whole time, wiping over and over in an awkward, twisted position. The blush spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears, and even her neck turned a faint pink.

As she kept wiping, she even began to regret it.

If she had let the medical staff do this earlier, she wouldn't have had to endure this "torture," wouldn't have been so on edge, her heart hammering.

But regret or not, Jin Mo's hands never stopped. She made trip after trip to the bathroom, carefully wiping down his chest, abdomen, and back, not missing a single inch of skin.

Jin Mo figured this "torture" was already intense enough, but she never expected something even more nerve-wracking was waiting for her.

She came out of the bathroom with a freshly wrung towel when it suddenly dawned on her—the doctor had told her earlier that during a fever, wiping the groin was the most effective way to bring down a fever.

At that thought, Jin Mo nearly dropped the towel. She went rigid beside the bed. Her eyes drifted vaguely over his belt buckle, sliding down a few inches before she snapped her gaze away like she'd been scalded.

Okay, you couldn't really blame her for overthinking. Wiping his upper body, she could tough it out by telling herself she was "caring for a patient." But the groin... how the hell was she supposed to do that!?

The man lying in front of her wasn't some three-year-old kid—he was a grown man pushing thirty, tall and solidly built. Even if they were close, this felt way over the line—even though the man being wiped was unconscious and completely unaware.

If she actually closed her eyes, steeled herself, and undid his pants, she'd probably be the one to pass out first, right?

Jin Mo stood by the bed for a solid five minutes, locked in a fierce internal battle, and in the end, she decided to ditch this mission that defied human limits, and went with wiping the soles of his feet instead.

She took a deep breath, lowered her head, and reached out to remove his socks. But just as her fingertips grazed the edge of his sock, the man who'd been dead to the world suddenly twitched his fingers—almost imperceptibly.

"Ah—"

The next second, Jin Mo let out a soft cry. The world spun as some unexpected force yanked her forward.

She never would've guessed a man burning up with fever and out cold could have that much strength. He clamped onto her wrist so hard she couldn't pull free, hauling her whole body onto the bed.

By the time Jin Mo snapped back to reality, she was flat on her back, pressed against the soft bedding, unable to move.

And the guy who'd been out cold moments ago had now rolled over and sat up. He planted his hands on either side of her head, hovering over her, caging her between himself and the bed.

Jin Mo looked up and met his open eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, probably from the fever still burning through him, a faint haze clouding them. They held less of his usual swagger and more of a fragile, almost pitiful vulnerability—but there was still a hint of undeniable dominance.

And his breathing was heavy and scorching, his hot breath washing over her face and neck, carrying that clean, crisp scent that was so distinctly him. Wrapped up in it, Jin Mo's own breathing went haywire, her heart slamming so hard it felt like it might punch right through her chest.

In that moment, the bedroom that had been so quiet was filled with nothing but the sound of their frantic, tangled breaths—intimate and scorching.

Jin Mo instinctively tried to shove him away, planting her hands on his shoulders and pushing hard, but he didn't budge. His arms stayed locked on either side of her, his grip solid as a rock.

The natural disadvantage of a woman's strength was painfully obvious. Stuck with no way out, her face burning crimson, she called out in a soft, panicked voice: "...Brother Ji."

His eyes were open, dark and unfathomable, but he said nothing. He just stared at her fixedly, his gaze so intense it felt like it could burn her.

Jin Mo couldn't tell whether he was delirious from the fever, his mind clouded, or fully conscious.

And buried deep in his profound gaze was a passionate emotion she couldn't decipher.

Her instincts screamed a frantic warning: the man before her was an enormous "danger" right now. The pressure he exuded was several times more overwhelming than that night at the Yin family mansion days ago.

That night, fueled by alcohol, he'd trapped her in the dim stairwell corner, the tension thick, yet he'd still maintained a shred of restraint. But now, sick as he was, he seemed to have shed all inhibition and control, radiating an aggression so dangerous it made her whole body tense, with nowhere to flee.

Her heart had long since lost control, pounding wildly beyond its limit, each beat heavier than the last, thrumming so loudly her eardrums rang. Her cheeks burned hot—if he didn't get off her soon, she wasn't sure her heart wouldn't explode on the spot.

So, summoning every ounce of courage, she raised her eyes and called out again, her voice trembling with a barely perceptible quiver: "Brother Ji?"

The next second, Yin Jihong finally moved.

Instead of getting up and moving away, he slowly lowered himself, his warm breath drawing even closer, nearly intertwining with hers.

Jin Mo was completely stunned.

She instinctively held her breath, her eyes widening slightly, staring at him without blinking.

In her line of sight, his aggressively handsome face was inching closer and closer. The fever hadn't diminished his handsomeness; instead, it added a fragile, broken quality that made him even harder to look away from.

But that fragility and pitiable vulnerability were nothing but a veil of illusion.

"Yin—"

Because the rest of his name, "Jihong," never made it past her lips—he silenced her.

The man raised his hand slightly, his bandaged fingers gently cupping her chin, his touch as soft as if he were handling a precious treasure. Then, he lowered his head and slowly pressed his lips to hers.

He kissed her.

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Author's note:

Red envelopes continue to drop randomly! Please keep showing love with collections, comments, and nutrient solutions! Love you all! Also, don't forget to collect my column! And feel free to check out my next new book "The Crane" in my column—a Beijing circle story (might also switch to writing a Beijing circle ensemble piece). Either way, it's mature men and women, very exciting haha.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh do I even need to write any other author's note for this chapter???? Just screaming is enough ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

Let me just ask you one question! Do you think the puppy can seize this opportunity!??!!?!

Told you I was saving the big move—Yin dog, kissing by chapter 26 isn't something to be proud of. Your brother Hualun hit a home run in chapter one. I can only hope your twin can get ahead of your brothers.