Chapter 55

"It's definitely your Zhou Family's genes; our Ning Family isn't like that." Ning Qing said firmly.

Zhou Shuanglin thought back a moment to his father-in-law and the Ning family elders he had met, then fell silent for a long while.

"Sleep." Zhou Shuanglin said lightly: "If you don't sleep now, you'll get wrinkles tomorrow, don't come crying to me."

Ning Qing imagined something, startled herself, and quickly closed her eyes to sleep.

At dawn, Sijiucheng suddenly flashed with lightning and thunder; a downpour fell, and in an instant the whole city was shrouded in rain and mist.

Wen Ling forgot to close the balcony door before bed; the wind blew, rain fell on the balcony, water mist drifted into the room, and Wen Ling felt as if she were sleeping in water, her whole body feeling drenched.

She lay there for a long while before uncomfortably getting up, closed the balcony door, glanced at the damp sheets, and had to take her phone and go to the guest room to sleep.

When she woke again, the rain was still heavy; Wen Ling felt her head heavy and feet light, her head foggy, her nose stuffed and unable to breathe.

She picked up her phone and dialed, weakly saying, "Aunt Zhou, I think I've caught a cold."

She couldn't hear what the other side said, only feeling a buzzing in her ears.

Her fingers loosened, the phone fell beside the pillow, she uncomfortably shifted, and hid under the covers waiting for Aunt Zhou to come rescue her.

After some time, Wen Ling heard someone calling her; she blearily opened her eyes to see a red-haired, fair-skinned person—not Aunt Zhou, but that bad man.

"Lingling, still feeling unwell?" Zhou Yinhe lowered his head, pressing his eyelid to her forehead to test the temperature; it wasn't that hot anymore.

Wen Ling shook her head, but as soon as she moved her hand, Zhou Yinhe pressed it down, hearing him softly coax, "Don't move, you're getting a shot, be good."

"How did you come here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Zhou Yinhe sitting on the bedside, his hair still somewhat damp.

Zhou Yinhe kissed her forehead, then said softly, "You called Aunt Zhou, and the call came to me."

Wen Ling blinked, then realized: Aunt Zhou also has the surname Zhou, probably the same surname, and because she was dizzy and couldn't see the phone screen clearly, she ended up calling Zhou Yinhe.

Aunt Zhou pushed open the door, holding a tray with two bowls of ginger soup.

Seeing the two close together, Aunt Zhou chuckled lightly: "Fifth Young Master, go take a hot shower first; the ginger soup is still too hot, drink it after you shower, just right, so you don't catch a cold."

She had always held a poor impression of this Zhou family's young master before, so her tone was distant; but this morning, after he called her, he hurried over soon, drenched from the rain, having only changed into the outfit he'd left here last time, and stood guard by Wen Ling's bedside.

Although it was a small thing, it also softened Aunt Zhou's tone, adding a sense of closeness.

Hearing that, Wen Ling looked at Zhou Yinhe, who had been staring at her, and said softly, "Go take a shower first."

Her lips were still a bit pale, but her small face was flushed from fever, adding a touch of fragility to her already delicate features; Zhou Yinhe's heart softened at the sight, and ignoring Aunt Zhou standing nearby, he lowered his head and gently kissed the corner of her lips before getting up to shower.

Wen Ling bit her lip; after Zhou Yinhe left the room, Aunt Zhou burst out laughing.

"Aunt Zhou, don't laugh." Wen Ling said, a little shy.

Aunt Zhou set the tray on the table, walked over and sat beside the bed, reached out to test Wen Ling's forehead, confirmed it wasn't that hot, then said gently, "This morning he suddenly called me, telling me you'd caught a cold, so I rushed over; not long after he arrived, soaked from the rain, it looks like he was in such a hurry that after getting out of the car he didn't even bother to put up his umbrella."

Wen Ling blinked her eyes and whispered, "I want to sit up."

Aunt Zhou helped her up, added a thoughtful pillow behind Wen Ling's back, so she could lean against the headboard more comfortably.

"I finally understand why you like him so much." Aunt Zhou couldn't help laughing, teasing, "I hadn't really looked at his appearance before, but today I saw he's indeed handsome."

"Aunt Zhou..." Wen Ling truly felt embarrassed now, her face reddening further, a bit annoyed.

"Okay, okay, I won't say more." Aunt Zhou stifled her laughter, took a bowl of ginger soup, and spoon-fed it to Wen Ling.

Within ten minutes, Zhou Yinhe returned, seeing Aunt Zhou feeding Wen Ling the ginger soup, he stepped forward and said softly, "Let me do it."

Aunt Zhou handed him the ginger soup, stood up to make space, seeing nothing else needed, she quietly left.

Zhou Yinhe tested the soup's temperature, blew on it, then fed it to Wen Ling, asking softly, "Is it hot?"

Wen Ling looked at him and shook her head.

Suddenly recalling when they first got together, they hadn't even kissed; after she fell ill, Zhou Yinhe came to care for her, and for some reason they ended up kissing; in the end her cold cleared, but Zhou Yinhe caught a severe cold that lasted a week.

She suddenly wanted to laugh, yet also felt vexed.

"What's the use?" When Zhou Yinhe before her is good, he's truly good, but when he goes crazy she doesn't know what to do with him.

She lowered her gaze to the mark left on her wrist from yesterday when Zhou Yinhe had taken her hand, and a surge of resentment rose in her heart.

"You're actually quite suited to be an actor."

Zhou Yinhe furrowed his brows, puzzled: "What?"

Wen Ling lifted her wrist, pulled down the sleeve of her pajamas to show him; the red mark on her fair skin was striking.

Zhou Yinhe's heart jolted; he quickly set the ginger soup down, hearing Wen Ling sneer, "Obviously last night's you was the real you; now you're just pretending, your acting is so good you ought to go into acting."

"Lingling, I..." Seeing Wen Ling's cold expression, Zhou Yinhe panicked, "I explained this to you before—I was too anxious last night, so I didn't gauge my strength; go ahead and hit me if you want, however you like, just don't be angry."

Wen Ling glanced at him lightly, seeing his flustered tone trembling, and smiled, curving her lips: "Just teasing you."

Zhou Yinhe's eyelashes fluttered; he lowered his gaze and leaned in to embrace Wen Ling, as if letting out a sigh of relief.

"I was scared to death."

Wen Ling curved the corners of her mouth, patted his back reassuringly, and lightly laughed, "Wasn't it you who scared me first last night?"

Zhou Yinhe rubbed his forehead against her shoulder, aggrieved: "No way."

His arms tightened; Wen Ling clenched his clothes, feeling a bit happy because she had startled him.

Yet she didn't notice that, out of her sight, Zhou Yinhe lowered his eyes, concealing a hint of unusual emotion.

Qiao Hongyun came over to pull out Wen Ling's needle; Zhou Yinhe pressed the puncture site for five minutes, and when the time was up he released his hand and said, "I need to head back to Feng Qi Yuan for a bit; I'll come keep you company tonight."

Wen Ling said: "No need."

She had just refused when she saw Zhou Yinhe's aggrieved expression, felt his grip tighten, and so amended, "I'm worried you'll tire yourself; if you don't feel tired, then please come."