Chapter 68 Even with a husband, she has to be satisfied. ...
After saying those words, Zhang Minglang collapsed completely.
As Tang Yi struggled to pull him out of the taxi, she felt a pang of regret, thinking that she shouldn't have stood with him on the balcony during the banquet, foolishly letting the cold wind blow on them.
Although she was also dressed lightly, at least he had put on a coat to block the wind, so she wouldn't catch a cold, while he was only wearing a thin shirt.
Zhang Minglang's mind was already somewhat unclear. The arm draped over Tang Yi's shoulder was burning hot through her clothes. Tang Yi could hear his heavy, long breaths, and she knew he must have a fever.
Take the elevator, find the keys, open the door, and lay him down on the sofa.
These actions alone had already exhausted Tang Yi's strength.
But she still managed to get up and go to the bathroom to prepare a towel, then to the first-aid kit in the drawer in front of the TV cabinet to find cold medicine and a thermometer. She grabbed a glass from the dining table, poured in hot water, and brought it to the sofa.
Tang Yi placed the water and medicine on the coffee table in front of the sofa, knelt on the carpet, and leaned down to feel Zhang Minglang's forehead temperature.
It was very hot, like lukewarm water constantly steaming in a glass of water.
Tang Yi frowned with worry. She picked up the hot water cup, trying to warm her cold hands as much as possible, before taking the thin thermometer and stepping forward to loosen his tie and shirt collar to take his temperature.
However, the disoriented man seemed to misunderstand what she was doing. He slowly opened his eyes, raised his hand and grabbed her hand that was resting on his chest, his voice hoarse but tinged with laughter: "How could you take advantage of me in this vulnerable state..."
Tang Yi wasn't in the mood for jokes right now. She said anxiously, "I'll take your temperature. Take off your tie and collar and put this thermometer in."
Zhang Minglang's hand loosened, and he slumped down, bouncing a few times against the soft sofa. He turned his head towards Tang Yi, his voice weak: "I have no strength, help me."
Tang Yi paused for a few seconds, calming down before realizing something. But as soon as she looked down, she could see the man's burning red eyes, physiological tears forming a thin shell in front of his eyeballs, and he looked at her vulnerablely.
Tang Yi blinked, her heart skipped a beat, but she continued what she was doing. Her eyes were a little unfocused as she reached out and grabbed the dark red tie lying on his chest, awkwardly trying to untie the knot.
Her movements were chaotic; the more she tried, the less she could untangle herself. Her mind was in turmoil, and a thin layer of sweat even covered her forehead.
Seeing her unusually flustered expression, Zhang Minglang couldn't help but chuckle softly. His chest rose and fell with the vibration of his vocal cords, sending a tingling sensation through Tang Yi's hands as she untied her tie.
Just as Tang Yi was about to give up and say she couldn't solve it, a pair of large, hot hands grasped hers.
Zhang Minglang held her hand, his long fingers encircling it, slowly untying her tie. After he finished, he let his hand fall, looking at her meaningfully.
Tang Yi lowered her eyelashes and reached out to help him pull the tie off his shirt collar. Zhang Minglang obediently raised his neck.
In the instant he looked up, the tip of his nose brushed lightly against the fabric of Tang Yi's silk dress. The cool sensation, accompanied by Tang Yi's unique, subtle fragrance, rushed straight into his mind.
Zhang Minglang's face suddenly turned even redder, and it wasn't just because of the fever.
Tang Yi didn't have time to pay attention to him. At this moment, she was holding the thermometer by one end, dangling in the air, her eyelashes fluttering as she didn't know what to do.
The living room lights were off; the only light came from the faint glow coming in from the balcony. One of them lay on the sofa, the other sat in front of the carpet, their heartbeats pounding at the same rapid pace.
"I can do it myself." Zhang Minglang coughed lightly, took the thermometer from her hand, turned his head to one side, and futilely used the pillow to cover his flushed cheek and ear.
Having handed over the hot potato, Tang Yi's tense shoulders unconsciously relaxed a little. Zhang Minglang reached out to unbutton his shirt, and Tang Yi almost subconsciously turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
However, the empty living room contained only the two of them. In the silent autumn night, the rustling sound of Zhang Minglang's open shirt easily and clearly reached her ears, like the steam rising from a shower, making her earlobes feel hot.
She wanted to do something to hide her emotions, so she stood up and headed to the kitchen: "I...I'll make you some hangover soup..."
However, before she could fully straighten up, her wrist, which was hanging down, was suddenly grabbed by the man behind her. She lost her footing, cried out in surprise, and her entire upper body almost fell onto Zhang Minglang's chest.
Tang Yi's eyes widened as her wrist, which was being held captive, lightly brushed against Zhang Minglang's exposed chest after he unbuttoned his shirt. Like a matchstick striking a matchbox, it instantly ignited a bright flame beside her hand—an undeniable sensation.
She tried to sit up, but was pushed back down. Tang Yi was afraid of breaking the thermometer, so she turned her head to say something, but Zhang Minglang held the back of her head, ran his fingers through her hair, and lifted his head to kiss her.
The smell of alcohol on her lips wasn't strong, but it still lingered. Zhang Minglang's nose touched her face, and the skin he brushed against felt like it was on fire. Tang Yi's head was spinning, and her face was burning.
Does she also have a fever?
Tang Yi heard her last shred of reason asking herself this question.
Their lips intertwined, their breaths hot. The patient didn't seem like a patient at all; rather, she resembled a general conquering a city, only the battlefield had shifted from the yellow sands to her lips.
Tang Yi didn't know how she got from the carpet to the sofa, how Zhang Minglang took out the thermometer and put it on the small coffee table, or how Zhang Minglang, who was lying down, put his arms on either side of her shoulders.
All she knew was that the sofa was in complete disarray. The blanket draped over the backrest had slipped down, and Zhang Minglang, as if he had eyes in the head, reached out and pulled it off, letting it float onto the carpet. Tang Yi heard it; she bit his lip to make the blanket cry out, but all she got in return was an even more frenzied kiss.
Tang Yi comfortably tilted her head back, with a pillow behind it. She ran her fingers through Zhang Minglang's short hair, and when she looked down, she could only see the top of his head.
She knew what he was doing; it was her tacit approval of his actions.
Only when she felt the long dress rising inch by inch, and the temperature rising inch by inch, did she feel as if she had been awakened from a dream. She reached out and grabbed Zhang Minglang's hand, stopping his wandering movements.
Zhang Minglang looked up at her.
Tang Yi took a few soft breaths to calm herself before speaking. Her voice was soft, but a hint of hoarseness was audible even to herself: "...You've been drinking."
Zhang Minglang was disobedient and kept his head down, wanting to continue, but Tang Yi quickly reached out and pushed his face.
She seemed a little embarrassed, her voice so soft it was like a mosquito's buzz.
"What?" Zhang Minglang didn't hear clearly. He leaned closer, his ear touching her lips.
Tang Yi mistakenly thought he was deliberately ignoring her. She repeated, somewhat exasperated, "You've been drinking! Don't you know that men can't..."
Zhang Minglang's earlobes turned visibly red. He looked up at her in disbelief, "I...I...I didn't!" As he spoke, he hurriedly tried to get up to prove himself, but Tang Yi, anticipating his movement, took the opportunity to push him away.
She propped herself up, clutching her chest, and yelled at him, "Are you sick? Do you expect me to get checked out...?"
Zhang Minglang hadn't fully stood up; he was still half-kneeling on the sofa. Only after she scolded him did he realize what he was doing.
He pounded his head, trying to clear his head.
Tang Yi had already stood up. She dared not stay there any longer. She remembered that she had originally gone to the kitchen to make a hangover soup.
She walked towards the kitchen. Zhang Minglang thought she was angry and was eager to chase after her to explain, but she misunderstood that he was still thinking about that matter.
"What else do you want?" Tang Yi finally snapped, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at him. "I've made myself perfectly clear, I don't want to be so casual... and besides, there's no such thing at home..."
Zhang Minglang caught the pillow that was thrown at him haphazardly, wanting to explain that he just wanted to get up and coax her, but she had already gone into the kitchen.
A mix of frustration and realization welled up inside him. He raised his hand to rub his still burning ears, then touched his nose, and finally couldn't help but lower his head and laugh.
That's true, she has to enjoy this kind of thing too.
When Tang Yi brought out the hangover soup, Zhang Minglang had already conveniently ordered a delivery service, and disposable toiletries and clothes were delivered. He also stuffed a few boxes into the bedside table in the guest room.
Zhang Minglang dried his wet hair with a towel, feeling much more awake. He shuffled towards the dining room in his slippers and bumped into Tang Yi, who was peeking into the living room.
Tang Yi looked away somewhat awkwardly. Zhang Minglang was much more thick-skinned than her. He stepped forward, pulled out a chair, sat down, and pointed to himself: "Your husband is right here."
Upon hearing those two words, "shameless," she paused in her hand holding the bowl and looked up at him.
Zhang Minglang shamelessly pretended not to understand: "What's wrong?"
During the half hour she spent in the kitchen, Tang Yi had already reflected on herself from beginning to end and made up her mind that from now on, she must never blush before Zhang Minglang.
She slammed the tap down hard, placed the pot on the stove, and turned on the flame.
Let's see who's more naive.
So, as usual, Tang took out the bowl, placed it on the table, and pushed it towards him. The bowl was made of ceramic, and a scraping sound came from the tabletop as it sat on the bowl.
Tang Yi stared intently into his eyes, her voice soft yet deliberate, each word like a declaration of war: "It's nothing. Husband."
Zhang Minglang was taken aback at first, and then his ears, which had finally calmed down, turned red again under his hair.
After Tang Yi finished speaking, she went to her room to change her clothes, leaving Zhang Minglang with extremely precious time to enjoy himself alone.
Like a monkey that had regressed to its ancestral form, he suppressed a laugh and silently swung his arms in the air, throwing a series of punches. The sound of the doorknob being pressed down came from behind him, and Zhang Minglang almost instantly withdrew his hand, sitting upright at the table, only his heart still beating very fast.
Tang Yi changed into her pajamas and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she passed the dining table, she saw him sitting upright at the table as if he were possessed. She pointed to the pot on the table and said, "What are you standing there for? Go get some soup. It's for sobering up."
After Zhang Minglang broke the seal, he became much more composed. He nodded in agreement and got up to fetch soup.
Tang Yi sat back down at the dining table with the hot water in her hand. As she drank the water, she remembered that she hadn't taken the cold medicine she had prepared for him when he came in.
She got up to get the cup and medicine; the water had already gone cold. She poured the water into a flowerpot, made a fresh cup of hot water, and placed the capsule and cup in front of him.
"After drinking the hangover soup and taking the medicine, go to sleep immediately."
Zhang Minglang had just finished a whole bowl of soup. Hearing this, he put down his bowl and casually asked, "Where do I sleep?"
Tang Yi smiled: "Guest room, or sofa."
Zhang Minglang sighed softly, "He was just calling me 'husband,' but there are no clothes of mine in the house, no towels or toothbrushes in the bathroom, and I'm not even in bed..."
Tang Yi didn't reply, but just leaned on the table and smiled at him.
If I'm in a good mood, I'll call you a couple of times, and you'll really start treating me like your husband.
Zhang Minglang glanced at Tang Yi discreetly, and seeing her dagger-like smile, he quickly gave in: "Fine."
He quickly swallowed his cold medicine, got up, picked up the bowl, and went into the kitchen to wash it, muttering defiantly, "Some people talk a good game, but they never give you the treatment you're entitled to..."
Tang Yi turned to look at him, struggling to suppress the upturned corners of her mouth.
Author's Note: [Winking face] Next chapter's synopsis will include a memorable scene. [Winking face]
But there will only be one update tomorrow!
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