Shen Jia Yan turned back to the hotel staff who had brought her and said, “Could you please find me a thermometer? Thank you.”
Then, she laid Wen Wan Ning flat on the sofa and went to the bathroom to rummage for a clean towel. She soaked it, wrung it out, and gently placed it on her forehead.
Wen Wan Ning stirred groggily, her eyelids fluttering. She looked at the person in front of her and, even though she wore a hat and mask, recognized her at once. Her voice was so weak it was barely audible. “Jia Yan?”
“It’s me.” Shen Jia Yan gripped her hand, her voice choking. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”
Moments later, the ear thermometer arrived.
Shen Jia Yan placed it in Wen Wan Ning’s ear. It beeped twice, and when she checked it, it read 38.9 degrees.
Her heart tightened. She gently helped Wen Wan Ning up and draped her coat over her. “Wan Ning, we’re going to the hospital. Be good—stand up and lean on me.”
Wen Wan Ning leaned weakly on her shoulder, her breaths scorching hot and coming in gasps. “Sorry… I didn’t want to trouble you…”
“Don’t talk.” Shen Jia Yan’s eyes were red, but her voice was firm. “The only thing you can do right now is be good and let me take care of you.”
She scooped her up princess-style and carried her out of the room.
Wen Wan Ning was light, nestling softly in her arms. Shen Jia Yan’s steps were steady to avoid jostling her, yet she walked as quickly as possible, eager to reach the hospital.
The corridor lights cast a dim yellow glow on her tense profile. She glanced down at the person in her arms—brows furrowed, breaths scorching. Even in her dazed sleep, her fingers unconsciously clutched at Shen Jia Yan’s clothing.
Shen Jia Yan’s heart trembled, and her steps quickened.
When the staff offered to help, she just shook her head gently. “I’ve got her.”
As they exited the hotel lobby, the night wind carried the damp chill of the rain. She pulled Wen Wan Ning closer, using her own body to shield her from the cold.
The hotel staff had already called a car for them.
Shen Jia Yan carefully settled Wen Wan Ning in the back seat, sitting right beside her. She cradled her head against her shoulder, pulled the coat up higher, and tested her forehead with her fingertips. Still burning, but her breathing had steadied a bit.
“Hang in there,” she whispered in her ear, her voice soft like coaxing a child. “We’ll be at the hospital soon.”
The car started and drove into the quiet night streets. Streetlights flashed by, shadows playing across Wen Wan Ning’s pale face. Shen Jia Yan gazed down at her—this woman who was always so composed and self-reliant, even choosing silence in illness—now completely vulnerable in her arms.
Wen Wan Ning, what exactly do you want? If you don’t like me, why come to my performance on purpose? If you don’t like me, why send “good morning” and “good night” messages over and over? If you don’t like me, why keep asking to meet up…
The car pulled up to the hospital entrance.
The emergency sign glowed faintly in the crisp post-rain night.
Shen Jia Yan helped Wen Wan Ning out, one arm around her waist and the other supporting her arm, taking her full weight into her embrace.
Wen Wan Ning leaned groggily on her shoulder, her lips moving faintly. Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. “Thank you.”
Shen Jia Yan patted her arm gently. “Don’t talk. Rest for a bit.”
They entered the emergency hall, where the harsh white lights stung the eyes.
Shen Jia Yan held Wen Wan Ning at the triage desk, her voice tight. “Nurse, she’s running a 38.9-degree fever and is a bit disoriented.”
The nurse quickly registered her, took her temperature, and drew blood. Shen Jia Yan stayed by her side, one hand tightly clasping Wen Wan Ning’s scorching one, the other unconsciously smoothing the sweat-dampened strands from her forehead.
“She needs fluids first while we wait for the lab results.” The nurse handed over the chart.
Shen Jia Yan nodded and carefully guided Wen Wan Ning to a bed in the infusion room, draping her own coat over her.
The nurse disinfected and inserted the IV. Wen Wan Ning frowned faintly in her daze, her fingers curling instinctively. Shen Jia Yan immediately covered her hand, her palm against the feverish skin. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”
Drip by drip, the fluid fell like a slow countdown. Shen Jia Yan sat by the bed, her eyes never leaving Wen Wan Ning’s face. Footsteps and doctors’ calls echoed in the corridor, but she felt like they were in their own world—just the two of them, quietly together in the noisy night.
After some time, Wen Wan Ning’s breathing evened out, the flush on her cheeks fading. She stirred her fingers and finally opened her eyes slowly.
Her vision was blurry for a moment before focusing on Shen Jia Yan’s face. Her lips were cracked, her voice hoarse and off-key. “Jia Yan?”
“Mm.” Seeing her awake, Shen Jia Yan grabbed the warm water she’d gotten from the nurse. “Thirsty? Have some water.”
She held the straw to her lips, supporting her neck with gentle hands, like caring for a child.
Wen Wan Ning took a weak sip. The warm water soothed her parched throat, but she coughed lightly twice. Her gaze was still a bit unfocused, yet she stared stubbornly at her. “How… did you come?”
Shen Jia Yan didn’t answer right away. She wiped the water from her lips with a tissue and tugged the coat up over her shoulders. Then, slowly, she spoke, her voice low and heavy with the pain and reproach pent up all night. “Han Yuchu called me. Said you had a fever and went unresponsive.”
Wen Wan Ning froze, a flash of panic in her eyes, like a secret exposed. She tried to explain, but Shen Jia Yan gently pressed her hand down.
“Don’t talk.” She looked at her, eyes deep as the sea. “You’re weak right now. You need rest. Sleep for a bit.”
“What about you?” Wen Wan Ning asked softly.
Shen Jia Yan’s face under the mask showed no expression. “I’m here with you. Sleep easy.”
Wen Wan Ning gazed at her, lips parting slightly, but said nothing more.
The fluid flowed slowly through the clear tube into her vein, bringing cool relief that eased her restlessness. Her consciousness ebbed like the tide, eyelids growing heavy, but her fingertips curled unconsciously, as if confirming Shen Jia Yan was still there.
Shen Jia Yan noticed and gently enfolded her hand in her palm, rubbing her cool knuckles with her thumb.
Three minutes later, she carefully removed the thermometer from under Wen Wan Ning’s arm and checked it: 38 degrees, fever breaking. She relaxed a little.
She set the thermometer down and looked at her exhausted sleeping face, sighing softly.
Fortunately, the tests showed nothing serious. If Han Yuchu hadn’t called… if the fever had spiked higher… if it had turned into pneumonia…
She didn’t dare think further.
Outside, dawn was breaking, the hospital morning stirring to life with nurses’ footsteps and cart wheels, muffled like through water.
Soon, Wen Wan Ning opened her eyes. Morning light filtered into the infusion room, dusting her lashes.
Shen Jia Yan was still there.
Her head was slightly bowed, hand propping her forehead as if dozing, but at the slightest sound, she looked up. “Awake?” Her first move was to check her temperature.
It should have come down.
Her voice was a bit hoarse as she handed over the thermometer. “Take your temperature.”
Wen Wan Ning saw the dark circles under her eyes and felt a pang in her chest.
That night, she’d been delirious with fever, but she knew Shen Jia Yan had found her in the dark, carried her through the rainy night, stayed by the IV stand all night without leaving her side.
She took the thermometer and tucked it under her arm. “You… sat here the whole time?”
“Mm.” Shen Jia Yan nodded. “I notified Han Yuchu and your brother. They’ll be here soon, and then I’ll go.”
“Sorry, Jia Yan. I messed up your rest and work.” Wen Wan Ning gripped the coat tighter.
Just then, the thermometer beeped.
She pulled it out and handed it straight to Shen Jia Yan.
Shen Jia Yan paused, then focused and took it. 37.2 degrees.
Seeing the numbers finally drop, her shoulders, tense all night, finally eased.
“No need to apologize to me.” She set it aside. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital when you had a fever? Why let yourself burn until you lost consciousness in the hotel?” Her voice was soft but trembled with suppressed emotion. “You should apologize to yourself for not taking better care of your health.”
Wen Wan Ning looked at her, eyes welling up.
“I… didn’t want to trouble anyone.” Her voice was faint, like an explanation or self-murmur.
“Trouble?” Shen Jia Yan’s eyes snapped up, piercing straight to her heart. “You hit 38.9, phone unreachable, Han Yuchu so panicked he called me. Do you know… if he hadn’t… if I’d been even a step late…”
Her voice caught, the unspoken fear heavier than any scolding.
“Sorry.” Wen Wan Ning could only repeat apologies.
Shen Jia Yan said nothing, just watched her quietly, eyes swirling with heartache, fear, anger, and a hint of irrepressible grievance.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out.
Chu Nian calling.
She motioned for Wen Wan Ning to rest and stepped out to answer.
“Hello.”
Chu Nian eyed Shen Jia Yan’s untouched bed. “Jia Yan-jie, did you go out? I came to find you, and you’re not in your room?”
“Mm,” Shen Jia Yan said apologetically. “Forgot to tell you—I had something come up and left the hotel.”
“Oh, so when are you coming back, Jia Yan-jie? Our flight’s at ten a.m.”
Shen Jia Yan checked her watch: eight-thirty.
She thought for a moment. “You guys go ahead. This might take a while; I probably won’t make the flight. Book me one for tonight instead.”
Not sure when Han Yuchu and Su Fang Yu would arrive—better push the return later.
“Huh?” Chu Nian hesitated.
She didn’t know what Shen Jia Yan was handling, but leaving her alone wasn’t good. If she got photographed, it’d be hard to explain to Manager Han.
“Jia Yan-jie, how about I come with you? It’s not convenient for you going in and out alone.”
True—her status made hospital visits tricky. If spotted, it’d affect Wen Wan Ning too.
Chu Nian could help grab daily essentials.
“Okay, come over. I’m at Jingnan Hospital.” Since Chu Nian would see her anyway, she explained. “Lawyer Wen’s here on business and got a fever with no one to care for her. I’m looking after her. Grab some porridge on your way.”
Chu Nian, still groggy from sleep, perked up instantly. “Got it. On my way.”
Ah! Ah! Ah! My CP is together again—in a romantic all-nighter caring-for-the-sick plot. Too shippable!
