Chapter 147 Fever

The man retreated back into the living room, soaking wet, with water dripping from his body from the doorway to the bedroom doorway before returning to the living room.

Fu Yungui took off his soaking wet clothes and threw them on the ground. He then sat down on the sofa he had just been sitting on and leaned back.

He was extremely tired at that moment.

However, the mental exhaustion far outweighed the physical fatigue.

The door wasn't closed, and Momo stared at the light. She knew Fu Yungui was in the living room, but she didn't know why he had gone to the door and then gone back inside.

Soon after, a faint smell of tobacco filled the room.

In such a large space, with the living room and bedrooms not too far apart, it's amazing that the sound could travel all the way here.

And it just won't go away.

This shows just how much of a smoker the man in the living room was.

A moment later, the living room lights suddenly went out.

The girl looked around and saw nothing but darkness.

But the smell of tobacco still lingered, and she didn't know if the man was still in the living room.

The dim light from the trees outside illuminated the man's shadowy figure on the sofa.

Fu Yungui was shirtless, leaning back, the cigarette between his teeth almost burned out, but the man had no interest in it at all.

In the dim firelight, the man casually rested his hands on either side, his Adam's apple protruding, connecting to his strong, muscular chest. Water droplets, not yet completely dry, would occasionally gather together and then slide down the lines of his abdominal muscles.

Until it disappeared again into the carpet below.

The man sat there silently, his eyes closed.

Out of control, utterly out of control, made him feel extremely depressed at that moment.

For Huang Momo, he has almost lost all moral compass, let alone any sense of reason.

That's fucking ridiculous.

In this state, before that woman can soften her heart, he'll probably be killed.

Yellow Jasmine...

The woman's face reappeared in his mind, incredibly clear; he could even see the slight smile on her lips.

A smile that hurts more than a knife stabbing someone—she'll probably only show that smile once or twice in her life, and it's always directed at herself.

The man slowly opened his eyes, extinguished his cigarette, and glanced slightly at the room.

The woman was lying there at that moment; it was unclear whether she was asleep or not.

He thought it was probably not true; he had seen her elusive figure lingering behind the curtains when he was downstairs.

But even if we don't have it, what can we do?

Could he possibly expect her to care about him?

Or should I just look at how pathetic I really am right now?

Thinking this, the man couldn't help but chuckle, filled with helplessness and self-mockery.

He mocked himself for not being able to control his own heart.

He despised himself even more, for he had fallen to such a state because of one person.

The man took the two rings out of his pocket; they were completely covered in mud and unrecognizable.

He reached out and wiped them, restoring them to their original appearance, silvery and bright, impossible to ignore even in the darkness.

He stared at it for a long time before putting it back in its original place.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that the person on the sofa got up and went to the bedroom.

Momo was lying in bed, wide awake and pretending to doze off, when she suddenly perked up at the slightest rustling sound outside.

The man still didn't turn on the light, because it was so late, and he figured the person in bed was probably asleep.

Using the light from his phone, he walked past the head of the bed to grab his clothes and went straight into the bathroom.

After hearing the bathroom door close, Momo slowly opened her eyes.

The bathroom light came on, and soon the sound of running water could be heard.

This time, the man stayed in the bathroom for a long time, so long that Momo almost fell asleep staring at the dimly lit door. She didn't know what he was doing in there, but the sound of running water never stopped.

A moment later, the door was suddenly opened.

Momo was startled and immediately closed her eyes.

The man dried his hair, went to the refrigerator, took out a few bottles of wine, and then went out.

This time, the man gently closed the door as well.

The room was plunged into darkness once again.

Momo opened her eyes again, but this time she couldn't see or hear anything outside. Then she closed her eyes again.

She knew he probably wouldn't come in again tonight.

Thinking this way, she relaxed a little.

Soon, the girl on the bed fell into a deep sleep due to exhaustion and drowsiness.

Before she had slept for very long, Momo wondered if she was dreaming, but she felt a hot chest pressed tightly against her back, like a furnace.

She instinctively tried to break free, but in the dream she seemed even weaker and more powerless. She didn't even have the strength to move her arm, and the burning heat made her heart tremble involuntarily.

Before long, that hot chest pressed even closer, and she seemed to feel a warm caress on the back of her neck as well.

One after another, intermittently, it was quite hot.

Momo seemed to smell a faint scent of alcohol. She subconsciously shifted her body, and then the warmth behind her disappeared.

She paused for a moment, still not fully awake, but knew it must have been a dream.

She didn't hear Fu Yungui come in, and even if he did, his body temperature wouldn't be this hot.

It must be another messy dream, a dream within a dream.

Soon, the girl fell into a deep sleep again.

Fu Yungui reached out from behind and put his arm around her waist. Her waist was already slender, but now it felt so thin that it was heartbreaking to touch.

Seeing that the girl was no longer moving, he moved closer again, burying his face in her neck and rubbing against her greedily.

The girl's body was slightly cool to the touch, which felt extremely comfortable and reassuring.

Soon, the man on the bed also fell into a deep sleep.

However, the temperature of his body against the girl's kept rising.

The next morning, when the sunlight streamed into the room, Momo woke up first.

After a night, she felt a little better and was basically fine.

The girl stared at the light streaming through the crack for a few moments before realizing the man's arm was draped over her waist.

She was startled and instinctively shrank back, only to bump into his chest again.

It was extremely hot.

Momo paused slightly, then moved his arm away and sat up straight, glancing to the side.

Last night... was that not a dream?

I don't know when he came in.

Momo stared at the still-sleepy man for a moment, her face flushed. She paused for a second, then reached out and touched his face; it was indeed burning hot.

What I felt last night, it definitely wasn't a dream.

He was soaked in the rain for so long last night, so it's not surprising that he's like this now.

But even if she has a fever, what does that have to do with her?

Momo hardened her heart and decided not to bother with him.

He brought this upon himself.

She glanced at the time, then got out of bed to change her clothes and wash up, preparing to go downstairs for dinner.

As a result, they stopped halfway down the stairs.