Chapter 61: "Sleeping Together"

At the first glimmer of dawn, Song Xi vaguely heard someone knocking on the door outside.

Her head was throbbing, feeling heavy and dull.

She turned over and went back to sleep, ignoring the commotion outside.

What good could possibly come from someone knocking on a hotel door? Even when fully awake, Song Xi would never open it.

Unknowingly, how much time had passed.

In her sleep, she felt a large hand resting on her forehead. The hand was slightly cool, carrying a hint of dampness, which felt wonderfully soothing against her burning skin.

Song Xi fluttered her eyelids and mumbled:

"Dad..."

"Mom..."

"Are you here to pick me up?"

When people are at their most vulnerable, they naturally think of their parents.

Jing Zhuo took off his damp jacket, sat down by the edge of the bed, and tore open a cold compress patch to stick onto her forehead.

Then he pulled out a thermometer and tucked it under her arm.

So cold...

Song Xi frowned and opened her eyes dazedly, convinced she must be dreaming.

Otherwise, how could she possibly see Jing Zhuo's face right here?

In her dream, this man still looked so composed and steady.

So handsome.

So thoughtful.

So good.

Yet, of all things... of all things, he had secrets.

Song Xi grabbed hold of him, sniffed with a grievance, and boldly spoke her mind in her dream.

"Liar."

"You big liar."

Her voice was hoarse and raspy, carrying a pathetic, tearful whine: "You clearly promised to take me to meet your parents, but instead you secretly sent them away. If you just wanted my body, you should've said so straight..."

Jing Zhuo: "..."

So she really had seen that message on his phone the other day.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and his cool, large hand covered her flushed face as he let out an almost imperceptible sigh.

"It's not just your body I want."

"I want all of you even more."

However, Song Xi didn't hear his words; she remained stubbornly convinced that he was just after her body.

Since they had slept together once and it felt good, he definitely wanted to do it again.

Left with no choice, Jing Zhuo went along with her words and admitted, "Right, you're great to sleep with."

Song Xi: "...You big scoundrel."

By now, her temperature was rising again, and she curled up under the covers, burning all over.

"So cold..." Song Xi muttered.

Jing Zhuo picked up the thermometer and checked it.

38.9 degrees Celsius.

When Yezi sent him the address, she had mentioned that she had already given her fever-reducing medicine the night before.

Now, only physical cooling methods would work.

Yet the woman was shivering beneath the blankets right now, like a pitiful little kitten inside an abandoned cardboard box.

Jing Zhuo's dark eyes deepened. He kicked off his shoes, climbed into the bed, and pulled her—blanket and all—into his embrace.

Surrounded tightly and securely on all sides, Song Xi felt an unprecedented sense of safety, and even her whole body began to warm up.

Her nose caught the familiar scent of cedarwood, and for a fleeting moment, she dazedly thought she was back in the large bed at Nine Trees Apartment.

Breathing in that faint, comforting scent, Song Xi drifted back to sleep.

The next day.

The heavy sense of weight on her body had not yet dissipated. Song Xi slowly opened her eyes amidst the rich scent of cedarwood, and her mind went completely blank.

What greeted her vision was a solid chest, and moving upward, clearly defined collarbones, then a sharply chiseled jawline, and higher still...

Those refined and sharp eyes.

"You, you, you..." Startled, Song Xi scrambled out of his embrace, "Why are you here?"

Jing Zhuo was woken up by her commotion. He narrowed his eyes and instinctively reached out to press his palm against her forehead.

The fever had broken.

And she was lively again.

"You had a fever last night. As your husband, I was worried, so I came to check on you."

How could he say it so casually!

The flight route from Beijing to Dali was over two thousand kilometers, and he just came on a whim?

While Song Xi was still trapped in profound shock, she suddenly raised the back of her hand and bit down on it hard.

Hiss... That hurt.

This guy was a real, living person!

"When—when did you arrive, and how did you get in?" Song Xi experienced a second wave of shock.

"I caught the last flight over last night. You wouldn't open the door when I knocked, so I used our marriage certificate at the front desk to prove our relationship, and the hotel staff helped me swipe the room card," Jing Zhuo answered unhurriedly.

Song Xi looked at the messy king-sized bed, then at him—equally disheveled—and recalled the scenes from her "dream."

"Last night, we..."

"Slept together."

"..."

"We didn't do anything, just hugged."

"!!!"

"And I wasn't after your body."

Oh no, this was the ultimate social death!

Jing Zhuo had heard every single rambling, mumbled word she uttered last night.

Embarrassed, Song Xi tried to explain: "None of the rambling nonsense I spoke while out of my mind with fever last night counts. Please don't take it to heart."

Mortified, she paced around the room in circles: "I have to go to work now, I'll leave it at that, go enjoy yourself..."

Before she could finish, Jing Zhuo pulled her back.

"I took a day off for you. You don't need to go today."

"Ah? But that's going to fall behind on the shooting schedule."

"It's going to rain today. Your clients and colleagues will all be resting at the hotel."

So that was how it was.

Song Xi glanced at him sideways: "Then what about you... aren't you going back to Beijing?"

"There's a torrential downpour today, flights can't take off."

"Oh..."

"Tourists are stranded at the hotel, and there are no extra rooms," Jing Zhuo added quietly, "So, I have no choice but to rely on my wife to take me in."

What else could Song Xi say?

They were legally married now with their marriage certificate. Even if he were paralyzed in the future, she would still have to push his wheelchair.

How inappropriate would it be to kick him out now?

"Then... then stay then," Song Xi said dryly.

The man beckoned to her: "Come here, sleep a little longer."

Seeing that Song Xi didn't move, he said, "It's still early. You tossed and turned for half the night and didn't sleep well, catch up on some rest."

Song Xi was indeed still somewhat drowsy.

Thinking of how he had flown in from Beijing overnight and then been tormented by her for half the night, he was probably even more exhausted.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, she slowly walked over to the bed and lifted the blanket.

There was only one large bed—a bed they hadn't fully broken in back at Nine Trees Apartment, but here, they were completing the remaining hundred percent.

The room was very quiet, accompanied only by the steady, rhythmic breathing of the man beside her.

Song Xi lay rigidly on one side. After a moment, she inched slightly closer to the edge, then a bit more, until her body hovered in the air and she almost tumbled off.

A hand reached out, steadily hauling her back and pulling her straight into the man's embrace.

"Hate me?"

"No."

"Don't want to sleep with me?"

"No, neither."

"Then why did you run so far away?"

Jing Zhuo sighed: "I don't have bad habits, I sleep well and I don't kick people. You don't need to stay that far away from me."

Held in his arms with her nose brushing against his chest, Song Xi could hear the steady beat of his heart.

Calm yet complicated.

After a long while, she spoke softly.

"Jing Zhuo, is there something you're keeping from me?"

Jing Zhuo paused for a moment, his clear voice resounding right above her head.

"Yes."