Master 08
Song Jing raised his arms and took a breath, then kicked open the door of He Mian's house, and in one go, he carried He Mian to the sofa in his house.
He Mian fell onto the sofa, and the weight on Song Jing was finally lifted off.
He Mian was too big for her, almost drowning her. Song Jing clapped her hands and stood by the sofa, panting.
He Mian's face was very red but his lips were very pale. Song Jing put her hand on his forehead and was startled by the high temperature which exceeded her normal body temperature.
If she used an old-fashioned mercury thermometer to test it, she felt that He Mian's temperature might have exceeded the highest value of the thermometer.
"Do you have a fever?" she asked in a low voice.
But now He Mian's appearance was much more terrifying than an ordinary fever. Song Jing was thinking that if she had come later, He Mian would have been feverish and crazy in her own home.
She even silently wondered if something really happened would affect the price of her house. Although it was impolite, it was a very realistic thing to do.
Song Jing bit her lip and took out her phone, thinking about how to contact an ambulance. "Should we take you to the hospital?"
He Mian's breathing rate seemed a little high, and his chest rose and fell with his breathing.
When Song Jing subconsciously moved her eyes downwards, she realized that he was wearing a set of silk pajamas.
The style of the pajamas looked simple, but perhaps because He Mian was uncomfortable, he did not fasten the first button, so his chest was vaguely revealed in front of Song Jing.
She narrowed her eyes and looked away, then looked back at his face, her hand still covering his forehead.
He Mian had very long eyelashes. He hadn't completely fainted yet, so he raised his eyelids slightly with his eyelashes trembling. Seeing Song Jing half-bent over and talking to him, he hummed in a whisper, "I..."
"What did you say?" Seeing him move his lips, Song Jing leaned closer to him, wanting to hear what he said clearly.
She always felt that she was a bit like the supporting character in the TV series who could never hear the last words, and He Mian was another supporting character who died before finishing his words.
"I've been to the hospital." He said while panting, and his warm breath hit her ear, tickling her a little. Song Jing shrank her shoulders and stood up straighter.
He Mian went to the hospital when he first developed a fever, otherwise he would not have suddenly asked for leave.
Song Jing placed the back of her hand on his forehead to check his temperature. "Have you taken your medicine? What did the doctor say?"
After she asked, she realized that He Mian had fallen to the point where he couldn't even speak. She paused and continued, "Forget it, save your energy and don't talk."
Although his consciousness was so unclear that he had no strength to sit up, He Mian's brain had not completely lost consciousness. The distance between them was quite close, and he remembered the scene of Song Jing holding him and breathing together.
He twitched the corner of his mouth and raised his hand, stroking her slightly cold hand with his fingertips, and then held her hand that was still on his forehead.
Song Jing was a little confused by his action. At first she thought He Mian probably wanted to take her hand away, but she soon realized that he was holding her hand.
She pulled away gently but failed.
Song Jing stared at him intently. He Mian was so sick he almost fainted, so how could he have the strength to hold her hand? She used some strength to pull her hand away and took a few steps back.
He Mian tilted his head to look at her, the blush on his face seemed to have scalded him, and now he seemed to be frowning and looking at Song Jing somewhat helplessly. Song Jing's closeness made him feel comfortable, and her smell and breath could soothe his unstable state.
He just wanted to get close to Song Jing a little too much.
Song Jing was frightened by his sudden and tight grip on her hand. She retreated from the sofa to the coffee table, turned around, picked up the cell phone on the table, and ran out of He Mian's room.
She lowered her head and touched the back of her right hand. The skin that He Mian's palm had just touched still retained his body temperature.
Song Jing ran back to her house to catch her breath. She first explained He Mian's current situation to Minister Liu and the others. She glanced back at the water heater on the table, hesitated for two seconds, then pulled out a disposable paper cup, poured it into a cup of warm water, and walked back to He Mian's house with the warm water.
Song Jing stood in the living room and glanced at He Mian, "Mr. He, can you sit up and drink some water now?"
He was very hot but his forehead was covered in cold sweat just now, so he needed some water.
When Song Jing came in with the water, He Mian was still lying quietly on his sofa, motionless. She pulled a low stool from He Mian's house and sat beside him. "Can you sit up?"
"Yeah." His voice was a little nasal.
As she asked, she put the paper cup on the table next to her, then helped He Mian up and picked up a pillow from the sofa with one hand to lean against his back.
He Mian was so weak now that Song Jing had no choice but to put out a hand to support his back, and her action looked a bit like she was holding him in her arms.
Song Jing picked up the cup and fed it to his lips. She had no experience in taking care of people, so her hands and feet were a little clumsy. Feeding someone water was much more difficult for Song Jing than accurately sucking up 0.02 microliters of medicine.
But He Mian still slowly absorbed the warm water in the cup, and his Adam's apple rolled up and down with the swallowing movement.
He couldn't help but quietly move closer to Song Jing. She was now concentrating on feeding him water and didn't notice He Mian's little movements at all.
It was not until He Mian tilted his head that Song Jing realized he had probably drunk enough and put the cup back on the table.
She tilted her head to look at him, only to find that his eyes were very red and there seemed to be tears in his eye sockets. Could he be crying because he was upset?
It was not convenient for Song Jing to put He Mian down now, nor was it convenient to hold him like this all the time. She had no choice but to maintain her current position for the time being, feeling somewhat helpless.
I don’t know if it was the effect of drinking water or the effect of the medicine He Mian took earlier, but he seemed to be better. His eyes were now fully open and his breathing sounded steadier.
"Are you feeling better?" Song Jing thought about it and realized that there hadn't been any major flu outbreaks recently, and it wasn't the peak season for colds. He Mian looked normal when he had dinner with her last night, so how could he be so sick today?
"Well, it seems not so uncomfortable anymore." He Mian's voice sounded a little hoarse, probably because he hadn't spoken normally for a long time.
He knew that he didn't get better because he drank water and took medicine, but because Song Jing was by his side.
Although it was a bit embarrassing to say it, He Mian knew that he was not just sick. He had entered the estrus period like other ordinary cats.
But He Mian had never encountered such a situation before. He is now living as a human being, and his body mechanisms are basically the same as those of humans.
This situation likely occurred because he had recently expended his body's energy to transform into his original form, causing a conflict between the two bodies and triggering an immune response undetectable by human medical instruments. This resulted in adverse reactions such as shock, fainting, and fever.
The only thing to be thankful for was that He Mian didn't want to make love because of the cat's estrus. What he wasn't thankful for was that he needed comfort and needed Song Jing's breath to wrap him up. Only when his territory was contaminated with her breath would he feel better.
But his relationship with Song Jing was not close enough for her to be so close to him. Even his act of holding her hand just now scared her.
He Mian felt a little sad, and the bitterness in his heart was about to overflow.
"Then you continue to lie down?" Song Jing adjusted the position of the pillows and put him back on the sofa. He Mian lay down obediently.
She was now standing behind He Mian, with her line of sight higher than He Mian's. As he changed from a sitting position to a lying position, Song Jing happened to see the muscles clearly hidden by the collar of his pajamas.
Song Jing turned her head away, muttering to herself that she was guilty while thinking that He Mian seemed to have a good figure.
After He Mian lay down, Song Jingkong looked at the time.
The two of them did nothing and it was already six o'clock in the evening.
Song Jing looked back at the sky outside her balcony, but her view was mostly blocked by the curtains, and she could only see a corner of the sky, a golden afterglow. She seemed a little hungry, and it seemed that she had to solve the problem of feeding the two of them tonight.
Seeing Song Jing's gaze shifted elsewhere, He Mian thought she wanted to leave and was a little anxious. He suddenly said while lying on the sofa, "Can you please not leave?"
He Mian's tone was still not very steady, but it sounded a little stronger than before.
Song Jing turned around and looked at him, "Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere else?"
"I have no strength in my body and can't move. It's very uncomfortable." He Mian said with a frown.
Song Jing found it hard to imagine that Mr. He, who usually seemed so decisive, could have such a fragile side. She felt like she could push He Mian down with just one finger. "Okay, I won't leave. I'll wait for you to recover. How did you get so sick? What did the doctor say?"
"I'm overly tired and the weather isn't great. Maybe I'll be fine after some rest. But I haven't been very conscious during the day."
He Mian followed the wording his doctor friend, Yu Wenjing, had given him and explained to Song Jing, "So I can't reply to any messages on my phone."
"Don't worry about work, take a rest first." Song Jing frowned, remembering that when she was having dinner at He Mian's house in the evening, she could see his computer on in the living room, and work calls would come in from time to time.
Although Song Jing didn't feel bad about her leader's work, she could guess that He Mian had been very busy recently.
"You get some sleep while I figure out what we're going to have for dinner tonight, okay?"
Because He Mian is now a patient and looks somewhat pitiful, his tone is very gentle when he speaks to her, and Song Jing's voice also sounds a lot softer.
"Yeah." He Mian smiled with the corners of his mouth curved, and obediently leaned on the sofa with his eyes closed and dozed off. Song Jing picked up his blanket and covered him with it.
He fell into a deep sleep while smelling her scent. When He Mian opened his eyes again, there was a fragrance in the room.
Song Jing heard the sound of He Mian getting up and looked back at He Mian from the kitchen. She walked towards him with a bowl full of hot porridge.
"Did you cook it?" He looked at Song Jing with a smile, his eyes sparkling.
Song Jing was stunned for a moment, then shook her head readily, "No, it's takeout."
She paused, remembering that He Mian had told her before that he was a bit picky about food and didn't like takeout, so he cooked every meal himself. Song Jing continued a little embarrassedly, "You can't eat any takeout at all?"
He Mian quickly shook his head, "No, no."
If it was the takeout that Song Jing ordered for him, he would finish it even if he vomited.
"I'm sorry, it's too late now. The supermarket may have run out of fresh meat. And you're in a hurry to eat something to fill your stomach, so ordering takeout is the fastest."
Another reason was that Song Jing was worried about her unstable cooking skills. She was a little worried that He Mian would get sicker after eating the food she cooked. Of course, the most important thing was that Song Jing really didn't have the energy to cook for others.
"Can you eat by yourself?" Song Jing sat next to him with a bowl in hand, "Or do you need me to feed you?"
She herself didn't know how she asked this question.
But He Mian looked a little too uncomfortable, and Song Jing thought she might just be being polite.
"Thank you for your help." He Mian raised his eyebrows and looked at her. His face was not very good because he was sick. He took the initiative to sit up and lean towards Song Jing so that she could feed him.
Song Jing didn't expect that He Mian didn't even bother to be polite with her, but just asked her to feed him so obediently.
Seeing that He Mian was ready to eat, she didn't know what to say. Just as she scooped a spoonful of porridge and looked up at He Mian, her eyes were again pierced by his beautiful curves and white chest.
She was stunned and swallowed, then spoke slowly, "He Mian."
"Hmm?" He Mian responded quickly, looking at Song Jing with burning eyes. This was the first time she called him by his full name.
"Um, could you please button your shirt?" She turned away, not meeting his gaze. "Um, if you're uncomfortable, forget it."
He Mian looked down at his clothes and felt a little confused. Didn't Song Jing like him to dress like this?
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