As night fell, Shen Qinghe indeed began to feel feverish, his cheeks and neck were flushed, and his bangs were soaked with sweat. Meng Zhao quickly soaked a handkerchief in cool water and placed it on his burning forehead. Because the temperature was so high, the handkerchief soon became warm, so she quickly changed it.
All night long, Meng Zhao was either changing his water and applying compresses to his forehead or wiping his body and moisturizing his lips. Xu Renyi came to relieve her several times, but she shook her head and refused. She dared not sleep, afraid that the person on the bed would silently disappear the moment she closed her eyes.
As dawn broke outside the window, Shen Qinghe's body temperature gradually decreased, and his breathing became much more even. Only then did Meng Zhao dare to relax a little and find a place in the room to sleep.
When she opened her eyes, the doctor was coming for a follow-up visit, and Meng Zhao quickly went forward to check on her.
"His pulse is much more stable." The old doctor stroked his beard and nodded. "This high fever was dangerous, but it also brought out the evil toxins in his body. The wound has also begun to scab over. I think he won't be in any danger for the next few days."
Upon hearing this, Meng Zhao's tense nerves, which had been taut all night, finally relaxed. She then asked for some precautions to take while caring for the doctor before instructing Xu Renyi to see the doctor off and to pick up some medicine according to the new prescription.
Over the next two days, although Shen Qinghe also had a brief fever, it wasn't as dangerous as the first night, so Meng Zhao took the time to rest more.
That day, Meng Zhao thought that Shen Qing had sweated a lot last night, so he should change him into a clean set of undergarments. Xu Renyi was busy outside, so Meng Zhao didn't call him. In any case, he had seen everything he should and shouldn't have seen in the past two days.
She closed the doors and windows to prevent drafts, lifted the quilt, slowly untied the ties of her inner garment, and spread it to both sides. She first used a handkerchief soaked in hot water to wipe her face and neck one by one. But when she wiped her chest, Meng Zhao suddenly noticed that the sensation under her palm had changed. Her originally soft chest gradually tightened, and the muscles bulged out clearly, with even her abdominal muscles beginning to appear faintly.
Meng Zhao's eyes lit up. He looked up, about to speak, but saw that Shen Qinghe's eyes were still closed, as if he were unconscious. How could he not understand? Meng Zhao's expression instantly changed from sunny to gloomy.
He had been running a fever for the past few days, and she was worried sick every day. At first, she was worried that he would die, and later she was worried that he might get brain damage and become mentally impaired.
But this person is something else! He's clearly awake but dares to pretend to be asleep, showing absolutely no consideration for her worries.
She narrowed her eyes, suddenly increasing the pressure in her hand, and rubbing the handkerchief hard against her abs, using it as a washboard. She stared intently at Shen Qinghe's face and saw that his jawline suddenly tightened and his eyelashes trembled uncontrollably, but he stubbornly refused to open his eyes.
In fact, Shen Qinghe woke up before dawn. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Meng Zhao with his back to him, washing a handkerchief in front of the basin. He wanted to make a sound, but his hoarse throat could not utter anything. Instead, the dryness in his throat made his vision go black, so he had to close his eyes again.
As the dizziness subsided, he was about to open his eyes again when he suddenly felt a warm handkerchief gently fall on his forehead. The touch was extremely light, wiping away the sweat little by little from his forehead to his cheeks. After wiping, the handkerchief was gently brushed away the strands of hair stuck to his face with soft fingertips, the movements as gentle as if it were a fragile piece of porcelain.
Then, Shen Qinghe felt the bed beside him sink slightly. Meng Zhao sat down and stayed by his side without leaving him for a moment. Even when someone called her to eat, she ate at the bedside.
Feeling Meng Zhao's gaze constantly fixed on him, as if watching him was the most important thing to her, he suddenly didn't want to wake up.
It wasn't until Meng Zhao lifted his blanket and unbuttoned his inner garment that the warm, soft palms, still damp with the scent of a handkerchief, caressed his chest inch by inch. The sensation was so vivid that his muscles tensed uncontrollably, and his breathing became somewhat disordered.
Meng Zhao tightened her grip even more, and seeing that he could still stubbornly refuse to open his eyes, she was so angry that she ground her teeth. She suddenly threw the handkerchief into the basin of water, splashing water everywhere.
“Since your undergarments are soaked,” she squinted, deliberately drawing out her words, “you might as well change your pants too.” With that, she reached out and untied the ties, her fingers sliding down her waistline. Just as she touched her pubic bone, a burning hot hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Shen Qinghe finally couldn't keep up the act any longer. Her eyelashes trembled as she opened her eyes, her gaze still moist. Her voice was low and hoarse: "No, I can do it myself."
Meng Zhao sneered and shook off his hand: "Weren't you 'unconscious' just now? What, are you scared now?"
Having been exposed, Shen Qing lowered her eyelashes, a hint of shame appearing on her pale face: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pretended to be asleep to deceive you."
His voice was hoarse, and the corners of his eyes were still red from illness. He lay weakly on the bed, yet he had a hint of weakness and ingratiation. Meng Zhao's anger dissipated by most of it, but she was still unforgiving on the surface: "It's good that you know your limits! If you really wait until you take it off before opening your eyes, I will definitely not let you off easily."
Meng Zhao brought over the clean undergarments. "Tell me, when did you wake up?"
He coughed lightly: "Before dawn, I saw you watching over me, so... I couldn't bear to wake up."
Meng Zhao glanced at him without saying a word, quickly helped him change into clean undergarments, and noticed how much weight he had lost in just a few days. She asked, "You haven't eaten properly for several days, are you hungry?"
Shen Qinghe gently shook his head. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry, but he had been so hungry that he had lost all feeling. Meng Zhao knew his condition perfectly well. She got up to go out and make arrangements, but her wrist was suddenly grabbed. "Don't go..."
During the days he was in a coma, he was trapped in darkness, as if he were submerged in water, with nothing in front of him and not a sound. Now that he opened his eyes, he finally saw Meng Zhao. When he saw her trying to leave, his eyes were full of panic, as if she would disappear if he let go.
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