A mercury thermometer’s highest reading is forty-two degrees. The mercury had reached its limit, probably around forty-three degrees. Chu Zhi lowered her eyes to look at the thermometer in her hand, where the mercury column sat precisely just above forty-two degrees. Any higher and the thermometer might explode. Chu Zhi froze for a moment, silent, slightly furrowing her brow before raising her head to look at him again.
The man before her looked different now. His usual lazy, casual demeanor had completely vanished, truly appearing extremely weak, with dewy eyes and slightly drooping lips, head lowered as he looked at her, his whole person seeming quiet and harmless.
Chu Zhi pressed her lips together and handed him the thermometer, slightly averting her eyes.
Lu Jiaheng slowly raised his hand to take it.
Chu Zhi stepped back.
BANG! The door was slammed shut in his face.
Lu Jiaheng hadn’t yet processed what happened, still immersed in the torment of illness, even starting to feel truly feverish and dizzy.
The next second, Chu Zhi’s muffled voice came from behind the door: “If you have a fever, why come to me? You should find a firefighter.”
Lu Jiaheng: “…”
Lu Jiaheng was stunned, momentarily speechless.
Chu Zhi leaned against the security door and waited a while. Outside was completely silent. She thought for a moment and turned around to peek through the peephole.
He was still standing there, head down, a slightly blurry silhouette, in the same position, motionless.
Like an abandoned cat or dog.
It didn’t really seem like he was pretending.
Besides, what would be the point of pretending to be sick?
But who could have a fever of forty-two degrees?!
The thermometer must be broken.
For some reason, Chu Zhi suddenly felt guilty.
She bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, then opened the door anyway.
When Lu Jiaheng heard her open the door, he raised his head, his dark eyes immediately brightening.
Chu Zhi glanced at him: “Are you really sick?”
A flash of struggle passed through Lu Jiaheng’s eyes.
He was silent for a moment, then made an “mm” sound.
Chu Zhi looked away: “Then you should quickly go home, or to the hospital. Don’t stand here wearing so little, there’s no heating outside.”
“My home doesn’t have heating either,” Lu Jiaheng said softly, “I just moved in and haven’t had time to pay the heating fee.”
Chu Zhi was stunned for a few seconds before remembering this matter.
It was already mid-December, and with this weather, having no heating at home could really cause problems. It would be strange not to catch a cold.
Chu Zhi stood at the doorway for a few seconds.
Lu Jiaheng wasn’t in a hurry, just quietly waiting for her.
After a while, she let out a low sigh, looking somewhat helpless as she moved back slightly to make room: “Come in first then.”
Almost as soon as Chu Zhi finished speaking, he entered, casually closing the door behind him.
By now Chu Zhi had already turned to enter the living room, her slightly raised voice coming from there: “Have you taken any fever medicine?”
You Cai’s sharp claws hooked onto his pants, fierce as a demon: “Meow meow meow meow!!!”
Lu Jiaheng picked him up in one motion, holding him up to his face.
Man and cat stared at each other, You Cai’s blue eyes fixed on him, front paws desperately batting at his face.
Lu Jiaheng’s lips curved slightly as he gave the black-faced cat a calm smile.
“No,” Lu Jiaheng said weakly.
You Cai was furious enough to spit blood: “Meow meow meow!!!”
Chu Zhi continued rummaging around in the living room while talking: “Is your thermometer broken? We have a digital one, come in and take your temperature again. If it’s high, you should go to the hospital.”
Lu Jiaheng: “…”
The smile disappeared from Lu Jiaheng’s face.
He put down the cat and stood at the doorway, giving a light cough: “No need, it’s probably not good to share these things.”
Chu Zhi: “It’s fine, it’s been disinfected.”
She turned sideways, poking her head out from inside: “Come in first.”
Although Lu Jiaheng wanted to enter, he really, really didn’t want to take his temperature.
Meanwhile, You Cai, whom he had just put down, was firmly gripping one of his legs, lying there like a salted fish, attempting to block him at the doorway.
Lu Jiaheng struggled forward, dragging his left leg with a cat attached.
A cat that had gone limp like a mop.
Chu Zhi crouched in front of the TV cabinet, pulling out a digital thermometer from the medicine box and holding it out to him.
After waiting a while, no one took it.
Chu Zhi looked up puzzled: “Here, take it.”
She was still maintaining a stern face, not appearing to have forgiven him, and her expression was as fierce as she could manage, her tone really not very nice.
But even like this, Lu Jiaheng still found her cute.
He took a deep breath, slowly raising his hand to take it, looking at the thermometer and making a last desperate attempt: “Actually, I just took some fever medicine at home, not sure if the fever’s gone down yet.”
Chu Zhi crouched on the ground, tilting her little head up to look at him, her expression somewhat suspicious, as if saying: “Then why did you come to my house?”
Lu Jiaheng paused, resignedly putting the thermometer in place, adding: “But that medicine was expired, might not work.”
Chu Zhi: “…”
No heating in winter, expired fever medicine—what kind of life have you been living all these years by yourself?
Chu Zhi knelt on the ground, watching him put in the thermometer and lowering her head to slowly take out several boxes of medicine from the medicine box.
For a moment the whole living room was silent, the atmosphere a bit awkward, with only You Cai’s angry purring intermittently breaking the silence.
He was still firmly gripping Lu Jiaheng’s pant leg. Seeing this, Chu Zhi beckoned to him.
You Cai reluctantly released his claws, arrogantly walking over to Chu Zhi with cat-like steps, sweeping his big tail across the floor before nestling into her arms, placing a small paw on her and looking at Lu Jiaheng with a “meow.”
Lu Jiaheng stood in front of the TV cabinet with the thermometer in his mouth, looking down at the person sitting directly on the floor, speaking hoarsely: “The floor is cold.”
Chu Zhi held the cat in her arms, not really wanting to look at him: “Floor heating.”
Another silence fell.
Chu Zhi turned her head away, just as she was struggling whether to look up, she heard a soft rustling sound.
Chu Zhi turned back to see Lu Jiaheng simply sitting down on the floor directly in front of her.
Chu Zhi frowned, both hands pressing against the ground as she scooted back slightly to create some distance between them.
Lu Jiaheng didn’t move, sitting quietly in place, eyes slightly lowered as he watched her.
He was especially well-behaved today.
Not casually leaning close or saying strange things.
Chu Zhi pressed her lips together and reached out to him, her tone slightly better: “Thermometer.”
Lu Jiaheng obediently pulled the thermometer from his shirt collar and handed it to her.
He was wearing a white shirt with several buttons undone at the collar, which had become somewhat disheveled from his recent movement, the collar turning up unruly to reveal a small patch of fair skin and his well-defined collarbone.
Chu Zhi’s ears turned a bit red, and she quickly lowered her eyes to look at the thermometer in her hand.
“Thirty-eight degrees,” she secretly glanced at him, dispelling the last of her doubts, “Your thermometer at home is definitely broken.”
Lu Jiaheng showed a moment of surprise.
It seemed the cold shower was slow to take effect.
He quickly recovered, completely unabashed as he adjusted his facial expression to look innocent and vulnerable: “Maybe the expired fever medicine still had some effect.”
“You still shouldn’t take expired medicine, do you want to get poisoned?” Chu Zhi pushed the medicine in front of him, “Here’s fever and cold medicine, take according to instructions, and drink plenty of water.”
Lu Jiaheng didn’t take it.
He leaned sideways against the TV cabinet, head slightly tilted, his dark peach blossom eyes looking at her as he spoke hoarsely: “I’m sorry.”
Chu Zhi’s movements paused, head lowered, not speaking.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper with you yesterday.”
Chu Zhi’s shoulders hunched, her head dropping lower.
Lu Jiaheng pressed his lips together, his voice soft and low: “I know I was wrong, don’t be angry.”
Sometimes things are just strange.
For instance, Chu Zhi had thought she wasn’t feeling that sad anymore.
But as soon as he appeared, with his coaxing tone of compromise and apology, his soft voice lowered as he called her name, the hurt from before instantly multiplied a thousand times, all rushing out at once, and she didn’t know where it had been hiding so well before.
It felt a bit affected, and a bit strange.
Chu Zhi raised her head.
He sat there leaning, his slightly damp black hair falling down, his skin very white, cheeks slightly flushed now, lips pale, looking somewhat pitiful.
After a moment of silence, Chu Zhi spoke softly: “You’re really too much.”
Lu Jiaheng admitted his fault in a low voice: “I was wrong, I’m too much.”
Chu Zhi’s eyes started to redden again: “How could you really leave, you’re too much, you just left me there alone.”
“It was my fault.”
“Lu Jiaheng, you jerk.”
He gave a low laugh: “Mm, Lu Jiaheng is a jerk.”
Chu Zhi sniffled, glaring at him: “If you ever do this again—”
She hadn’t thought about how to make the threat sound more forceful, more fierce.
He had already stopped smiling, speaking softly as if negotiating with her: “If I ever do this again, you can scold me, scold me however you want, hit me if you want, but don’t ignore me, okay? And don’t cry,” he pressed his lips together, his voice very light, like a sigh, “When you cry, I don’t know what to do.”
Chu Zhi widened her eyes, her face slowly turning red as she suddenly stood up, looking down at him and stammering: “Y-you speak properly! I haven’t forgiven you yet!”
Now he was sitting while she stood before him, so she was looking down at him.
This feeling was novel and unprecedented. From above, Lu Jiaheng lifted his head to look at her, appearing somewhat expectant.
Chu Zhi suddenly felt like she had gained the upper hand.
She looked down at him imperiously, puffing her cheeks with quite some momentum: “First get up and take your medicine, then go home and sleep. The fever will break after you sleep.”
Lu Jiaheng sat in place, not moving.
He blinked, obediently looking at her, and after a while, slowly spoke: “I can’t get up, I’m too weak, no strength.”
Chu Zhi: “…”
Chu Zhi pressed her lips together, struggled for a moment, then extended her hand a bit.
Lu Jiaheng raised his eyelashes, staring at her soft white palm for a while before reaching up to hold it.
His hand was long and slender, burning hot, completely enveloping Chu Zhi’s hand as he held it motionless for a few seconds before pretending to use it to stand up.
He stood steady in front of her, not immediately letting go of her hand.
Chu Zhi gently tried to pull away.
Lu Jiaheng released her hand, picked up the medicine she had given him, and suddenly said: “My home doesn’t have heating.”
Chu Zhi took a moment to react, then understood his meaning, her eyes widening slightly: “But…”
She couldn’t continue.
Lu Jiaheng looked down at her with lowered eyes, his cheeks probably flushed from the fever, his thin lips parting as he took a soft breath, emphasizing as he repeated: “Chu Chu, my home is so cold.”
Author’s Note: Lu “Shamelessly Persistent” “Thick-skinned” Jiaheng Young Master Lu didn’t put foundation on his face, he put it on his lips.
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