Chapter 21: Human Sentiment

Caught off guard, she was suddenly scooped up in his arms. By the time Song Mi realized what was happening, one of her hands was already hooked around his neck.

Her gaze landed squarely on his Adam’s apple, which moved ever so faintly as he swallowed.

He was already striding down the stairs.

After a moment’s hesitation, Song Mi reached out with her other hand as well; otherwise, it was simply too awkward and uncomfortable. “There’s really no need to go to the hospital,” she began.

But her words were cut short by a loud wail. “You… you two… Mi’er…”

Pei Qiuyang’s reaction was almost comically exaggerated. “Brother Li…”

“Mi’er…”

Not in the mood to explain, Song Mi simply closed her eyes and nestled herself more comfortably in his arms.

Feeling her relax ever so slightly, Wen Yanli glanced down at the woman in his arms. Her small, delicate face was flushed scarlet, and her burning skin rivaled any fever over 39 degrees. “Go to the bar and bring two bottles of something cold,” he instructed.

The abrupt order sobered Pei Qiuyang almost instantly—he hadn’t been that drunk to begin with. “What’s going on?”

“High fever,” Wen Yanli replied, unconsciously quickening his pace.

Seeing this, Pei Qiuyang, who stood a few steps down, hastily stepped aside while shouting to the waiter below, who was carrying Qiao Weiwei downstairs, “Hey, downstairs! I’ll carry Boss Qiao, you go get some ice and a towel…”

Song Mi hadn’t expected her fever to be this severe. Her head was swimming, her limbs weak; soon she could no longer hold herself together and only wanted to sleep.

When Wen Yanli realized she’d lost consciousness, his first reaction was pure frustration!

He should have gone straight to the hospital after leaving the bar, instead of dropping Qiao Weiwei at the apartment first.

This woman!

She really was always so careless with her own health!

When the car finally pulled up at the nearest hospital, he practically flew through the doors carrying her straight to the emergency room.

“41.5 degrees!” The nurse on duty looked at the thermometer, her face instantly hardening. “Why are you only just getting here?”

Wen Yanli steadied his breath, glancing at the woman on the gurney. “What should I do?”

“She’s not pregnant, is she?” the nurse asked brusquely. “If not, after a skin test we’ll start the IV right away. We need to get that fever down immediately.”

He hesitated for a moment, the nurse clearly mistaking their relationship for something more intimate. “…No,” he replied.

As he answered, he looked at Song Mi again.

But she was in no state to respond.

Just then, Pei Qiuyang arrived. “…Brother Li, how is she?”

…

Not long after the IV was started, Song Mi woke briefly. Her thirst was overwhelming, her throat bitter and parched.

“I’ll go—I’ll get you some water.” With that, Pei Qiuyang shot out of the room like a spring released.

Wen Yanli, meanwhile, couldn’t quite shake the question the nurse had asked earlier, but now was not the time to press it. The medication was being administered anyway. “She needs to be observed overnight.”

…

Outside the hospital, a nondescript black Volkswagen was parked by the roadside.

The person who had been tailing Song Mi all night organized the photos he’d taken, bundled them up, and sent them off to the contact on the other end of his phone.

He added the hospital’s name as a note.

…

When the nurse came to remove the IV, Song Mi woke again.

Dawn was near.

Neither of the two men who’d run themselves ragged the night before were anywhere to be seen.

It made sense—there were doctors and nurses in the hospital. No need for anyone else to keep vigil by her bedside all night.

Once the nurse had left, Song Mi slowly sat up.

There was a cup of water on the bedside table. As she reached for it, she paused in surprise—the water was warm.

It couldn’t have been Pei Qiuyang.

He was the type to throw himself into danger without a second thought, but as for the finer points of attentive care, he hadn’t yet learned a thing.

Of course, it was possible she’d encountered an especially kind-hearted nurse, but she rather suspected it was Wen Yanli.

If so, she owed him yet another favor.

But Song Mi didn’t dwell on it. Setting down the cup, she reached around and, as expected, found her phone next to the pillow. “Notify Shen Ruming: eight o’clock. Latecomers will not be waited for.”