The suppressed sobs eventually turned into desperate cries, echoing throughout the simple old house.
"Xiao Han... I was wrong... I was wrong..."
Wen Yuhan remained motionless as Pei Shaocheng held her, listening to him apologize repeatedly in her ear.
His eyes flickered, and after a pause, he patted Pei Shaocheng on the back and said softly, "Go to sleep, you'll feel better after a good night's rest."
The hands holding him tightened even more, probably because the other person had a really high fever. He heard Pei Shaocheng mumbling something repeatedly, but he couldn't quite make out what he was saying.
"Pei Shaocheng, let's go, go back to bed."
"Can you... not die..." Pei Shaocheng's voice was barely audible, "Don't die..."
...
Chapter 67
In the latter half of the night, Pei Shaocheng's fever intensified.
Wen Yuhan wanted to take him to the hospital, but the wind was howling outside and it was hard to get a taxi in the small city at night. He was worried that Pei Shaocheng's condition would get worse, so he could only bring a basin of warm water to cool him down physically.
"Take off your vest." Wen Yuhan wrung out the towel.
He had finally managed to get the man into bed, and he had to coax and threaten him into taking his medicine. He was exhausted by now.
Pei Shaocheng stared intently at Wen Yuhan, his eyes somewhat unfocused, his eye sockets reddened from the high temperature, and he just stood there holding onto Wen Yuhan's arm, refusing to let go.
Wen Yuhan tried a few times to pull her hand away, but failed. Helpless, she could only sigh and say softly, "I won't leave. Just take off your clothes and I'll wipe you down."
Pei Shaocheng kept his eyes fixed on Wen Yuhan, and only after a long while did he slightly reduce his strength with a wary expression.
Wen Yuhan took the opportunity to withdraw her hand, hesitated for a moment, and then helped Pei Shaocheng take off his vest.
"Raise your hand."
He wiped the other person's arm with a towel, and after wiping the front, he turned the person over to wipe the back.
A hoarse voice came from under the dim light: "That year, the mall had a mobile phone promotion, eight yuan an hour to dress up as a mascot..."
Wen Yuhan paused slightly, then continued wringing the towel without saying a word.
“I stood there all day, covered in sweat, and then got caught in the rain when I went out. I got a fever when I got home…” Pei Shaocheng’s unfocused eyes trembled slightly. “That’s how you brought down my fever back then.”
“Uh…” Wen Yuhan still didn’t reply. After wiping the other’s upper body, she started to unbutton Pei Shaocheng’s pants.
"Lift your waist up a bit."
As soon as he finished speaking, his hand was grabbed by the other person and pulled forward with force.
Wen Yuhan was caught off guard and fell onto Pei Shaocheng. Just as he was about to get up, Pei Shaocheng took the opportunity to pull him into his arms.
Wen Yuhan's skin felt cool and had a faint scent of shower gel, which was much more comfortable than wiping her body with a wet towel.
Pei Shaocheng greedily tightened his grip, his hot breath spraying against the other's ear.
"So comfortable..."
He took a deep breath and let out a low sigh.
Wen Yuhan frowned, his tone immediately turning cold: "Let go."
Perhaps illness weakens a person's self-control, thus revealing their most primal desires. At this moment, Pei Shaocheng not only did not stop in time, but even boldly buried his head directly into the other's neck, gently rubbing against him like a large dog.
"Pei Shaocheng!"
"You feel so cold..."
Pei Shaocheng pressed Wen Yuhan's back against him tightly, his hands moving firmly, but his voice was hoarse as he pleaded, "Let me hug you, okay... Xiaohan, I feel unwell."
Upon hearing this, Wen Yuhan paused in her actions of pushing Pei Shaocheng away, and gradually stopped.
Pei Shaocheng was probably not faking it; he was indeed burning hot, so much so that Wen Yuhan's back was covered in a thin layer of sweat.
He closed his eyes, finally adjusting to a position that would be as comfortable as possible for both of them, and lay silently on the bed with Pei Shaocheng.
As the room returned to silence, the sound of rain became increasingly clear.
The old streetlights outside reflected into the house, leaving a patch of light in the corner of the ceiling.
Wen Yuhan still remembers that when he was a child, he would be so frightened by these light spots that he couldn't sleep, and he thought they looked like the face of a monster.
Back then, his grandmother would hug him from behind, patting his back while fanning him with a palm leaf fan and telling him stories...
Wen Yuhan stared at the light spot, his gaze distant in the darkness, and his stiff muscles gradually relaxed as he recalled the memory.
This subtle change brought a sliver of joy to Pei Shaocheng's chaotic and tense consciousness.
He gently wrapped his arms around the other's waist. Seeing that Wen Yuhan did not offer any obvious resistance, he lowered his head, intending to breathe in more of the cool and comfortable scent. However, he accidentally pressed his lips against the most sensitive skin on the back of Wen Yuhan's neck.
Wen Yuhan gasped instantly, his memory forcibly pulled back. A current surged through his spine, and he instinctively bent his elbow and jabbed at Pei Shaocheng behind him.
"Ugh!" Pei Shaocheng groaned, his brows furrowing in pain, but he didn't let go of his hand.
The cool, soft touch was fatally attractive, making him unable to resist constantly stimulating it once he touched it, in order to obtain the most authentic feedback from the other party.
This feedback excited and reassured Pei Shaocheng, because it meant that the person in front of him was still alive and well beside him, with a beating heart and vitality.
To make the other person's heart beat even harder, Pei Shaocheng opened his mouth and bit Wen Yuhan's nape, then gently rubbed that delicate skin with his teeth.
His mouth was hotter than usual. Wen Yuhan panicked and tilted his head back, swallowing back a broken breath.
Pei Shaocheng placed his hand on the left side of his chest, feeling the heart pounding faster and faster with each movement. He unconsciously tightened his grip, seeking even more reassurance.
He's still alive... He's still alive...
Pei Shaocheng's breathing became increasingly heavy and uncontrollable. Wen Yuhan stiffened and immediately shouted, "Pei Shaocheng! If you keep this up, I'm leaving right now!"
This statement worked, and the other party immediately stopped moving.
Pei Shaocheng's dark and crazed eyes regained a sliver of clarity, which was followed by a look of utter unease and panic.
"I'm sorry... I... Don't go!" Pei Shaocheng propped himself up on the bed, not even bothering to put on a coat before rushing out. "I'm going to sleep in the wicker chair, I won't be next to you..."
Wen Yuhan sat up as well, irritably pulled open the bedside table, opened another pack of cigarettes, knocked one out, put it in his mouth, and lit it. He leaned against the headboard and smoked silently.
He listened to the bathroom door being opened and closed, followed by the sound of a shower, then buried his face in his hands and let out a long sigh.
"Hold…"
He gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath, tossed away his cigarette butt, stood up, and strode quickly to the bathroom, turning on the electric water heater on the wall. Then he kicked the wooden door.
"Taking a cold shower while you have a fever? Don't you want to die?!"
His answer was a dull thud as a body slammed against the door.
The bathroom in the old house was cramped and narrow; someone of Pei Shaocheng's build would basically take up most of the space as soon as he entered.
The shower and toilet were not separated; when the umbrella was opened, water would spray directly onto the door and then splash out through the door cracks.
The wooden door was already somewhat rotten, and its sound and light insulation were poor. Through the decayed cracks, a dim, yellowish light could be seen inside.
Wen Yuhan knocked on the door again and asked in a cold voice, "Pei Shaocheng, is the water hot yet?"
...
No one answered.
...
“Pei Shaocheng…” Wen Yuhan frowned and reached for the doorknob.
"Don't come in."
Pei Shaocheng's hoarse voice came from the bathroom.
Wen Yuhan realized almost instantly what the other person was doing inside, and her expression froze as she quickly looked away.
He turned back to the bedside, picked up the military overcoat, threw it at the bathroom door, and lit another cigarette.
The smoke rings gradually diffused and dissipated into the air.
Wen Yuhan, resigned to her fate, lay back on the bed and raised her hand to cover her eyes:
"That's enough..."
A note from the author:
Thank you so much for your support! I will continue to work hard!
Chapter 68
In the end, Wen Yuhan still didn't let Pei Shaocheng actually sleep in the rattan chair. Pei Shaocheng behaved himself in the latter half of the night, and apart from holding him to cool him down, he didn't do anything out of line.
The rain outside continued incessantly, and as dawn approached, Wen Yuhan finally drifted off to sleep.
Miraculously, he forgot to take his sleeping pills that night.
On the morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year, it is not customary to sleep in late, so the usually quiet Shaou Street was bustling with noise early in the morning.
Wen Yuhan tossed and turned several times, but found that her consciousness was becoming increasingly clear, so she could only sigh silently in her heart.
He half-opened his sleepy eyes and instinctively reached for the cigarette box by the bedside, only to find it empty.
At the same time, Pei Shaocheng placed a clay pot on the table. The moment the lid was lifted, a rich aroma of cured meat and vegetable porridge filled the entire old house.
"You're awake." Seeing Wen Yuhan looking at him, Pei Shaocheng smiled awkwardly while holding the pot lid. "I cooked some porridge, come and have some."
"Has your fever gone down?"
"37.5 degrees Celsius, still a bit high, but much better now."
Wen Yuhan lowered his eyes and remained silent. Pei Shaocheng's physique was truly enviable. Imagine if this illness were to befall him, it would probably take at least ten days to half a month to recover.
Wen Yuhan got up, put on a robe, and went to brush her teeth and wash her face. Then she returned to the table, sat down, and turned on the TV.
The movie channel was showing an old Yugoslavian film, which he thought was quite good, much better than watching a rerun of the Spring Festival Gala.
Pei Shaocheng served him a bowl of porridge, and Wen Yuhan stirred it with a spoon, blew on it to cool it down, and took a small bite.
How does it taste?