fever
The morning light crept silently into the room through the gaps in the curtains. Lin Xiyan woke earlier than usual. Perhaps it was the change of environment, or perhaps he was preoccupied with his thoughts, so he slept very lightly.
He opened his eyes, and the first thing he felt was a heavy weight on his waist—Jiang Yibai's arm was still there, even in sleep, with an undeniable possessiveness. His back pressed against his chest, an unusual heat radiated from him, much higher than usual. Even his breath carried an abnormal heat, burning the back of his neck.
Lin Xiyan frowned slightly, his heart inexplicably tightening. He turned around cautiously.
Jiang Yibai was still asleep, his brows unconsciously furrowed, his cheeks unnaturally flushed, his lips a little dry. His purple eyes, usually sparkling with a smile or a sly expression, were now closed, his long lashes casting deep shadows beneath them, making him look a little fragile.
Lin Xiyan stretched out her hand and gently touched his forehead.
The tentacles are scorching hot!
My heart sank. He had a fever. And it was quite high.
Almost instantly, a thought came to me like a cold vine - it was because of him.
It was because I braved the snow to go find him yesterday, because I didn’t sleep well after staying with him all night, because I gave him my coat, and because... I took care of him, the troublemaker that everyone avoided.
A heavy sense of guilt weighed down on him like a huge rock, instantly taking his breath away. As expected... he only brought misfortune and burden to others. Jiang Yibai had been so kind to him, yet he only caused him to get sick.
He almost immediately wanted to pull his hand away, to escape the suffocating feeling of guilt.
As if he had noticed the change in his movements and breathing, Jiang Yibai mumbled vaguely in his sleep, tightened his arms, and buried his head unconsciously in the crook of his neck, seeking the slight cool comfort, while his breathing became increasingly hot.
That dependent attitude was like a needle, accurately piercing Lin Xiyan's urge to retreat.
He couldn't leave. Jiang Yibai was sick. It was because of him.
He lay stiffly for a moment, forcing himself to calm down. Then, very carefully, bit by bit, he pulled himself out of the scorching embrace. Jiang Yibai seemed dissatisfied, his brows furrowed even more tightly, and he made a vague sound of protest, but he didn't wake up.
Lin Xiyan stepped out of bed quietly and tucked the quilt in for him. Looking at his red face and dry lips, guilt and worry mixed together in her heart, weighing heavily on her.
He pulled out his phone, walked to the corner of the room, took a deep breath, and called his homeroom teacher. His voice was low, a subtle hint of nervousness and apology lingering in his voice. "Teacher, this is Lin Xiyan... Jiang Yibai has asked for leave today... He has a fever and is feeling very unwell... Well, I will... take care of him. Thank you, teacher."
After hanging up the phone, he stood there for a few seconds. Then, as if making up his mind, he turned and walked into the bathroom, soaked a towel with cold water, and wrung it out.
Returning to the bed, he carefully placed a cold towel on Jiang Yibai's scalding forehead. The cool touch made the sleeping man sigh in comfort, and his frown relaxed slightly.
Lin Xiyan knelt beside the bed, watching over him, running cold water over him every once in a while and changing his towel. Her movements were clumsy but she was incredibly serious and focused.
The sky gradually brightened.
Jiang Yibai's body temperature didn't seem to drop much, his lips became even drier, and he would occasionally utter uncomfortably muttering words.
Lin Xiyan watched, his anxiety and guilt growing. Physical cooling alone didn't seem enough. He remembered when he was sick before, he'd just endure it, or... make something to eat himself.
Yes, food. When you're sick, you need to eat something and drink something hot.
He stood up, glanced at the person sleeping on the bed, closed the door gently, and went downstairs.
The kitchen was clean. Xu Panting might not have gotten up yet, or might have already left. Lin Xiyan stood in the unfamiliar kitchen, feeling somewhat bewildered. He opened the refrigerator, which was filled with abundant food. But he didn't dare to touch it.
Finally, he found rice in the rice box. This should be fine.
Wash the rice, add water. He did it slowly, but with clear steps. From childhood to adulthood, he had always taken care of himself when he was sick, and cooking a bowl of porridge was the most basic thing he could do. But later, with his busy work schedule, he often didn't even bother to make porridge, and just let it go.
He placed the pot on the stove and turned on the fire. The blue flames licked the bottom of the pot. He stood quietly by, watching the tiny bubbles slowly rise in the pot, and then stirred carefully with a spoon to prevent it from sticking to the bottom.
The kitchen was quiet, save for the subtle gurgling of porridge and the clink of a spoon against the pot. Outside the window was the clamor of a slowly waking city, yet it seemed so far away.
His mind was in a mess. All he could think about was Jiang Yibai's red face and the words "because of me".
The aroma of the porridge slowly spreads, carrying the unique soft, glutinous and warm fragrance of rice grains.
He turned down the heat and let the porridge simmer, then went upstairs to take another look.
Jiang Yibai seemed to be sleeping restlessly, and the towel had fallen to the side. Lin Xiyan quickly rinsed it with cold water and reapplied it to him. When her fingertips touched his burning skin, the guilt in her heart deepened.
He sat on the floor beside the bed, watching. Time passed slowly.
The porridge was almost done, so he went downstairs and scooped a small bowl. The rice grains had already cooked through, becoming sticky and soft. He held the bowl, but hesitated. Should he add sugar? Would a sick person's taste change? He seemed to remember that Jiang Yibai liked sweet things...
In the end, he only served the porridge, carefully cooled it, and brought it upstairs.
Jiang Yibai seemed to wake up for a moment, his eyes opened a crack, his eyes confused and unfocused. When he saw it was him, he closed them again weakly. His lips moved and he made an extremely weak and hoarse sound: "... Water..."
Lin Xiyan quickly put down the bowl, poured a cup of warm water, carefully lifted him up a little, and put the cup to his lips.
Jiang Yibai took a few sips from his hand, his throat rolling, looking extremely thirsty. After drinking the water, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength and fell back softly into the pillow, breathing heavily.
Lin Xiyan took the bowl of porridge, scooped up a spoonful, blew it carefully, and handed it to his mouth, saying softly: "Eat something."
Jiang Yibai was dizzy from fever and had no appetite, so he subconsciously turned his head away.
The spoon stopped in mid-air.
Lin Xiyan watched him refuse to cooperate, and the anxiety and guilt in her heart blended into a kind of stubbornness. He pursed his lips and held the spoon forward again. His voice softened, but with an unyielding insistence: "Eat a little. Otherwise... your recovery will be slow."
There was a slight tremor and worry in his voice that he didn't even notice.
Jiang Yibai seemed to have sensed something strange and opened his eyes slightly. In his blurry vision was Lin Xiyan's stubborn yet worried face. He was silent for a moment, then very slowly opened his mouth.
The warm, soft porridge slid into my mouth. It didn't taste like much, but the warmth went down my esophagus, which did make me feel a little better.
Lin Xiyan patiently fed him spoonful by spoonful, his movements a little clumsy, but extremely serious. Every time Jiang Yibai frowned slightly and tried to avoid him, he would stop and stubbornly hold the spoon until he opened his mouth again.
After feeding him half a bowl of porridge, Jiang Yibai shook his head, indicating that he couldn't eat anymore. Beads of sweat oozed from his forehead again.
Lin Xiyan put down the bowl and carefully wiped his sweat with a towel. Looking at his face, which looked particularly fragile and tired due to the fever, the heavy stone in his heart did not lighten, but became heavier.
He put away the bowl and spoon, wrung out the cold towel and applied it again. Then he sat down beside the bed and watched motionlessly.
The sunlight slowly filled the entire room, falling on Jiang Yibai's sweaty forehead and flushed face.
Lin Xiyan reached out and very gently brushed away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead with her fingertips. Her movements were cautious, tinged with an inextricable sense of guilt and pity.
It's all because of me.
If it weren't for me...
The person on the bed seemed to sense something, and even in their sleep, they unconsciously reached out, groping, and accurately grasped his wrist, which was lying on the edge of the bed. The force was not strong, but it was filled with scorching warmth and complete dependence.
Lin Xiyan's body stiffened, but he did not struggle.
Jiang Yibai grabbed his wrist, as if he had found something reassuring. His brows relaxed a little, his breathing gradually became steady, and he fell into a deep sleep.
Lin Xiyan let him hold her, feeling the scalding body temperature coming through her skin, contrasting with the tiny scabby scar on her wrist through the gauze.
An indescribable bitterness and determination slowly rose from the bottom of my heart.
He lowered his head and looked at their folded hands. Very lightly, he used the fingertips of his other hand to touch the back of Jiang Yibai's hand, which was abnormally warm due to the fever.
Then, he kept this posture with his wrist tightly held, quietly guarding the bedside.
Like a clumsy and stubborn little animal trying to protect an injured companion.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
