Qin Mu suspected he had lost his sense of taste due to the fever, so she put down her chopsticks, leaned closer to him, and raised her hand to touch his forehead.
It was really hot. Qin Mu's heart skipped a beat, and she gently asked him, "Shall I get you some fever medicine?"
"Hmm!"
Mu Yichen agreed with a nod, continuing to eat his meal.
Something in Qin Mu's heart felt sour again.
In just this short moment, her emotions had become a complicated mix of flavors.
How pitiful is he?
When she isn't around, how does he cope when he's sick?
Does he just lay in bed without eating or drinking until he gets better?
As she thought about it, it felt as if needles stabbed her heart.
Qin Mu became silent, and when she went to the kitchen to prepare the medicine, her vision blurred unconsciously.
The sound of intermittent coughing reached the kitchen, and she sniffed, holding back tears.
Her hand was scalded, and the pang in her nose caused the tear poised like a large pearl to drop.
