Perhaps because of the alcohol and the wind, coupled with his depressed mood, Jiang Yiyu developed a fever that night.

Song Shengsheng woke him up in the middle of the night and asked him to take medicine. The fever finally subsided around dawn.

The next morning, Wen Jing originally wanted to call Jiang Yiyu to go back to the studio together, but she heard Song Shengsheng say that he had a cold.

Song Ming leaned over to listen and couldn't help but curse: "He got me drunk, then dragged me out to blow dry, and now he has a fever? Do you think this makes sense?"

Wen Jing sighed, "If that's the case, there's nothing we can do. I don't know when he'll be better. I have to go back and discuss adjusting his work schedule with the team."

Song Shengsheng nodded, and Song Ming patted her shoulder: "If you have any problems, just call me, don't try to handle it yourself."

"Okay, got it. You go and see Sister Wenjing off. I'm going back to the house to see Brother Yiyu."

…

Back in the bedroom, Jiang Yiyu was still asleep. Song Shengsheng sat down beside the bed, leaned over and gently felt his forehead, muttering softly, "We need to take his temperature again."

Jiang Yiyu frowned, half-opened his eyes and looked at her dazedly, humming in a hoarse voice: "Headache."

Song Shengsheng tucked the corner of the quilt for him again: "You deserve it. You insisted on taking revenge on my brother yesterday and dragged him to blow the wind with you. Now he's fine, jumping around, but you're sick. Are you feeling better? Are you happy?"

Jiang Yiyu curled the corners of his lips, buried his face in the quilt, and coughed a few times: "It's okay."

Song Shengsheng picked up the thermometer from the bedside table and shook it. "When you're better, let's go home from Mingyuan. I have to go to the pharmacy to buy a more advanced thermometer. I'm always afraid that this old-fashioned mercury thermometer will break if I use too much force."

She handed the thermometer to Jiang Yiyu: "Hold it."

Jiang Yiyu obediently took it over: "Where's Wenjing?"

"I went to work. She told you to have a good rest these few days and not to think too much about anything."

"Where's Song Ming?"

"My brother went to see her off. He also told you not to overthink it and to get well soon."

Jiang Yiyu looked at Song Shengsheng and nodded with a smile.

Song Shengsheng reached out and pinched his face: "You still have the energy to smile, I think your illness is almost healed."

"Dear, I really want to be hugged by you, but I'm afraid of infecting you."

Song Shengsheng sighed, took off her shoes, got on the bed, and hugged him through the quilt. Jiang Yiyu smiled contentedly, closed his eyes, turned sideways, and arched his face into her arms. Song Shengsheng touched the top of his head: "Be careful with the thermometer."

Jiang Yiyu hummed and put his arms around her waist.

Song Shengsheng patted his back gently and coaxed him gently: "When you are sick, you are like a child, but you don't cry or make a fuss. You are quite well behaved."

"I'm not a child."

"What is that? Is it a puppy?"

"Not a puppy either."

"kitten?"

"no."

"What is that?"

"It's your husband."

Song Shengsheng laughed out loud: "A weak husband who can't take care of himself?"

"Well, I can only rely on you and be hugged by you. I feel uncomfortable all over when I leave you. I can only be a wife slave in this life. I have to kiss and hug my wife all the time. Honey, why are you so good? My wife smells so good. She is the most beautiful little princess in the world. She is a fragrant and soft little princess who belongs only to me."

His voice was hoarse and soft, which made Song Shengsheng's heart soften. She put her fingertips into his hair and combed it gently. Jiang Yiyu hummed and rubbed her lightly, which always made her laugh out loud.

After a while, she looked at the thermometer, fed him medicine, leaned her back against the bedside cushion, let Jiang Yiyu hug her waist, and closed her eyes.

…

Jiang Yiyu's cold was very severe, and he had a high fever for three consecutive days. Song Shengsheng was so anxious that she called Wen Jing. Wen Jing arranged for Xiao Chen and staff to come to the house, pick up Jiang Yiyu, and take Song Shengsheng to the hospital.

After two more days of intravenous drips, the fever finally subsided.

Song Shengsheng saw that Jiang Yiyu's mental state had improved a lot, but her voice was still hoarse. He even joked with her, saying that he finally had a magnetic bubbling voice and insisted on performing some greasy love talks for her.

Song Shengsheng got goosebumps after watching this, and he and Xiao Chen seriously warned him not to do this in public, otherwise this performance would become an indelible black history in his acting career.

Jiang Yiyu didn't think it was so exaggerated until Xiao Chen found him a few typical case videos of greasy things and carefully analyzed the greasy points for him. Only then did he finally realize the seriousness of the problem.

Xiao Chen looked at him seriously and said, "Brother, you have to know that handsome guys hate to know that they are handsome. Only when they are unconsciously handsome can they be handsome in the most natural way. Handsomeness cannot be acted."

"What do you mean?" Jiang Yiyu was a little confused.

Song Shengsheng concluded: "You can't think you are handsome."

Jiang Yiyu frowned, "I'll try my best." He was about to touch his chin with his uninjected hand when Xiao Chen quickly grabbed him, "Be careful with this move! It's very greasy."

Jiang Yiyu looked at Song Shengsheng, who nodded, "A little bit."

He deflated, "What about my itchy chin?"

Xiao Chen said seriously, "Just bear with it."

Jiang Yiyu sighed, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling, looking a little dazed. "I know I'm not young anymore, but I don't think everything I do is greasy, right? When I was in my teens and early twenties, I did these moves, and neither of you thought I was greasy."

He lowered his eyes and glanced at Song Shengsheng: "Especially you, this is the first time you dislike my appearance."

Song Shengsheng and Xiao Chen looked at each other and smiled. "You are a teenager. Back then, even if you were wearing a sack or a hurdle vest, you were still full of youthful energy. Now you are almost thirty years old, your mentality is different, and it is impossible for your appearance to remain unchanged."

"You think I'm too old?"

"Not really. I just feel that people are no longer young and have to change a little. But none of this matters. After all, I will fall in love with you at different ages over and over again."

Jiang Yiyu finally smiled. Xiao Chen got goosebumps when he heard it and felt that he shouldn't be here.

…

After Jiang Yiyu recovered from his illness, he started running around for announcements while busy trying to take over the family business from Jiang Yuan. Song Shengsheng was worried that his physical condition could not handle such a large amount of work.

But he smiled nonchalantly and comforted her that it was okay. He also said that he wanted to wait until next month when his mother's grave was moved, so that he could stand in front of her tombstone and proudly tell her that her son had fulfilled her expectations.

But Song Shengsheng knew that this was just Jiang Yiyu's optimistic expectation. It would not be so easy to truly obtain the Jiang Group.