Chapter 70 He Has a Fever (Part 1)

The absurd "bankruptcy acquisition" anniversary gift storm of Xinghui Technology had stirred up huge waves in Yu Ling's heart, but under the comfort of Zhao Chen's extremely sweet love, it temporarily calmed down.

The illusory gains and losses of the million in her account were replaced by the reality of "owning a company," leaving her with a complex mix of emotions. However, the deep anxiety about the "dependency" after the contract expired did not truly dissipate. Instead, it gnawed like a reef underwater, causing a hidden pain beneath her calm surface.

She needed a clearer signal. A sign that Zhao Chen didn't just "dote" on her, but truly "needed" her. She longed to find a trace of irreplaceable weight beneath his seemingly omnipotent wings.

This opportunity came unexpectedly to Yu Ling in a way that she had never expected.

It was a late night with heavy rain.

Yu Ling was awakened by the thunder, and all sleepiness was gone. She sat on the bed, wrapped in a thin blanket, listening to the raging wind and rain outside the window, feeling inexplicably uneasy.

Zhao Chen had gone out that afternoon, saying he had an "important social engagement," and he hadn't returned yet. She picked up her phone, wanting to send him a message, but she was afraid to disturb him, her fingertips hovering over the screen, hesitant.

At this moment, the faint electronic sound of a door lock opening came from downstairs, which seemed particularly faint amid the sound of wind and rain.

He is back!

Yu Ling felt relieved. She threw off the covers, got out of bed, and quickly walked out of the bedroom in her slippers. The house was dimly lit, with only a few dim corridor lights on. She walked to the door and looked towards it.

The entrance sensor light is on.

Zhao Chen was standing in that dim halo of light.

He was soaking wet. His expensive dark grey suit jacket was wrinkled on his arm, and the white shirt underneath was tightly clung to his body, outlining his sturdy yet exhausted figure.

Raindrops dripped down his wet black hair and onto the polished marble floor. The dark blue tie she had tied for him that morning was now lopsided and hanging loosely around his neck, with two buttons roughly ripped open.

He lowered his head, one hand on the entrance cabinet, as if trying to steady himself. His normally upright back now revealed an unprecedented, almost fragile hunchback. A thick, damp, cold vapor hung around him, along with a faint, rain-diluted aroma of alcohol.

Yu Ling's heart suddenly tightened! She had never seen Zhao Chen like this before! Disgraced, exhausted, and distraught.

"Husband?" she called out tentatively, her voice echoing in the empty living room.

Zhao Chen's body seemed to stiffen for a moment. He slowly, extremely slowly, raised his head.

His lips moved, as if trying to force a soothing smile, but it only moved the stiff corners of his mouth, and finally turned into a bitter and weak arc.

"...Lingling," his voice was extremely hoarse, as if his throat had been rubbed by sandpaper, with deep fatigue and a barely perceptible tremor, "Did I wake you?"

He held onto the cabinet and tried to stand up straight, but his steps staggered.

Yu Ling couldn't hold it in any longer and rushed over quickly, her slippers making a rapid "clacking" sound on the ground. She rushed to the entrance, not caring about the cold rain soaking him, and reached out to hold his shaking arm.

Her fingertips touched the wet fabric of his shirt, and the cool dampness instantly transmitted through her, making her shiver. But what frightened her even more was the subtle trembling of his arm muscles transmitted through the cold wet fabric.

"Why are you so wet?!" Yu Ling's voice was filled with heartache and fear. "Where's the driver? No umbrella?" she asked while trying to help him take off his heavy, wet and cold coat.

Zhao Chen allowed her to move, raising his arms obediently. His coat was removed, revealing a white shirt underneath that was also soaking wet and clung to his body, making his figure even thinner. He closed his eyes slightly, his thick eyelashes casting a small shadow of fatigue beneath his lids. His voice was low and erratic, as if all his strength had been drained away:

"The driver had something to do at home and left early. He forgot his umbrella at the hotel." He paused, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty before continuing. His voice was filled with a hesitant tone that still betrayed a sense of heaviness. "The project... fell through. We prepared for three months, and it was... snatched away by our competitors."

He spoke the last few words with great difficulty, as if he had exhausted all his strength. Those amber eyes raised and looked at Yu Ling, no longer filled with the confidence of being in control of everything. Instead, they were covered with a layer of gray frustration and a hint of childlike helplessness.

"Lingling," he looked at her, his voice low and hoarse, with a kind of self-doubt that Yu Ling had never heard before, almost humble, "Am I...useless?"

These words, like an ice-hardened awl, pierced into the softest part of Yu Ling's heart!

Pain! Sharp pain instantly swept over her!

This man, so powerful he seemed to be able to turn the tide, this man who had given her a company like it was a piece of candy, now, before her, had stripped off all his armor and disguise, revealing his most vulnerable core. He had returned in the pouring rain, not to garner sympathy, but to lay bare his failures and fears in the haven he had chosen?

The anxiety about dependence and independence hidden deep in Ling's heart was instantly overwhelmed by a more turbulent and primitive emotion when he asked himself the fragile question "Am I useless?" - heartache! Overwhelming heartache!

She no longer thought about any agreement, any independence, or any future. At this moment, she just wanted to hug him, warm him, and tell him that in her heart, he would always be the best!

"What nonsense!" Yu Ling's voice was filled with tears, and her eyes instantly reddened. She hugged his cold, soaking body tightly, as if to give him all her body temperature. "Don't you dare say that about yourself! You are the best! In my heart, you will always be the best Zhao Chen!"

Her embrace was warm and firm, with an unquestionable strength.

Zhao Chen was held tightly by her, his body stiffening for a moment, then as if he had finally found a support point, all the weight was lifted off, and he leaned heavily on her shoulder. His warm breath brushed against Yu Ling's sensitive neck, carrying a strong smell of moisture and alcohol, and a hint of heat?

Yu Ling's heart tightened. She reached out and placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

Scalding hot! Like red-hot coals!

"You have a fever!" Yu Ling exclaimed, her voice full of anxiety, "Hurry! Take a hot bath first! Change your wet clothes!" Without saying anything, she half-supported and half-carried him to the guest bathroom.

Zhao Chen seemed genuinely delirious with fever, and obediently let her push him into the bathroom. Yu Ling frantically adjusted the water for him, then rushed back to the bedroom to fetch a clean bathrobe and towel, stuffing them in. Through the door, she urged, "Wash quickly! Don't catch a cold! I'll make you some ginger soup!"

She rushed into the kitchen. The wind and rain were still raging outside the window, but her heart was like a fire ignited, with only one thought left in her mind - to take care of him!

He rummaged through boxes and drawers, found some old ginger, washed it, and sliced ​​it with incredible agility. He then dug out some brown sugar and found a stew pot. He put the ginger slices in cold water, brought it to a boil over high heat, then reduced the heat to a simmer. The spicy aroma of ginger rose with the steam, filling the kitchen.

She stood by the pot, feeling uneasy, but her ears were perked up, always paying attention to the movements in the bathroom.

The sound of water stopped. After a long while, the bathroom door was opened.

Zhao Chen emerged in a loose white bathrobe, his hair dripping wet. His face remained pale, but his cheeks were flushed with an unnatural blush. His eyes were hazy, and his steps were unsteady. He seemed to have exhausted his last bit of strength, holding onto the wall as he staggered towards the living room sofa.