He would frequently startle awake, shouting, only to remain dazed for a moment before slipping back into a restless slumber.

  Ai Lin, having packed a small travel bag, left the house. Fang Siying knew that she would be gone for at least three days. She couldn′t guess what the servants thought of Ai Lin leaving for Taichung while Bai Peiwen y gravely ill.

  Kind-hearted Yazhu merely shook her head silently. As for Lao You, his deeply furrowed face betrayed no emotion. He seemed reserved and unapproachable, his thoughts impossible to discern.

  After dinner, Fang Siying and Tingting returned upstairs. Fang Siying had tried to feed Bai Peiwen some porridge, but he remained unconscious, and his fever showed no signs of subsiding. She had no choice but to ask Yazhu to take the porridge back.

  Around nine o'clock, she insisted that Tingting go to bed. The child was so exhausted that she was nodding off.

  Once the child was asleep, Ai Lin had left, and the servants had also retired; the entire house became eerily quiet. Fang Siying stayed by Bai Peiwen's side, changing the cold towel on his forehead. She used a thermos bottle filled with ice, wrapping the ice in a towel and pressing it against his burning forehead. Since the ice melted quickly, she had to use another dry towel to constantly wipe away the water that trickled down to prevent the quilt and pillow from getting wet.

  In his high fever, he was extremely restless, muttering deliriously, groaning, and struggling. Occasionally, he would suddenly regain consciousness and ask in a tired, weak, and hoarse voice, "Who's here?"

  "It's me, Fang Siying," she replied. Taking advantage of these moments, she managed to give him his medicine. When he was unconscious, she had no idea how to make him take it.

  He sighed, turned his head to the side, and said in a low voice, "Have I caused you trouble?"

  She did not answer. His moments of crity were fleeting, and in the blink of an eye, he fell back into delirium and nightmares. At one point, he suddenly cried out in arm:

  "Don't go! Don't go! The water is rising, the mountain is colpsing, the bridge is broken! Don't go! Han Yan!"

  He shouted with such anguish and despair, his hands grasping desperately at the air. Unable to help herself, she reached out with both hands to catch his, and he immediately clung tightly to her.

  His voice, urgent, fragmented, and delirious, cried out, "You won't leave, will you? Han Yan? You won’t leave… You're kind... You're good-hearted... you're compassionate... The water won't reach you; it can't take you away. You are mine… You are mine… You are mine..."

  With his feverish hands, he groped for her cheeks, her hair. Fang Siying removed her gsses and pced them on the bedside table. Then, reluctantly and against her will, she allowed herself to go along with him. She let him fumble, let him cling tightly to her, as she listened to his suppressed, delirious, burning murmurs.

  “I love you, Han Yan. Don't leave me, don't leave me. You can hit me, scold me, lose your temper—whatever you want, just don't leave me. It's raining outside; you can't go out; you'll catch a cold... Don't go out, don't leave! Han Yan… my dearest… my heart, my life! You're here, you're here, say something! Han Yan, no, no, don’t say… don’t say anything. Just being here, being here is enough...”

  He held her tightly, so tightly as if she would escape the moment he loosened his grip.

  His grasp hurt her. She sat on the carpet by the bed, letting him cling to her hand. Her head rested on his bed, allowing him to grope blindly. She didn't want to move, didn't want to wake him from his beautiful dream. Yet tears slid silently down the corners of her eyes, falling unnoticed onto the quilt. Her stifled sobs made her heart bleed in silence. Then, she felt his grip loosen, and his murmurs turned into indistinguishable whispers.

  She slowly lifted her head. His eyes were closed—he had fallen asleep. She removed the damp towel from his forehead and gently pressed his temples with her hand. Thank heavens, the fever had subsided. She pulled out his wet pillow but couldn't immediately find a dry one to repce it. So, she went to her own room, retrieved her pillow, and carefully supported his head to y it on the dry one. Then, using a towel, she wiped away the water and sweat from his forehead.

  Once everything was cleaned and refreshed, he appeared so exhausted and drained that she didn't dare leave right away, worried that his condition might change. She pulled a recliner close to the bed and sat down, telling herself, "I'll just rest for a moment." She leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes, and was immediately enveloped by fatigue. Letting out a soft sigh, she quickly drifted into a deep sleep.

  When she woke, sunlight was streaming through the curtains, flooding the room with light. She jolted upright, startled, and realized that someone had draped a bnket over her. Who had done that? She gnced toward the bed. Bai Peiwen was lying there, awake and tidy. Hearing her movements, he immediately said, "Good morning, Miss Fang."

  She checked the time—10:05 AM! What had happened to her? She had missed her morning css! She couldn't hold back and excimed:

  "Oh no! I'm te."

  "I've already asked Tingting to help you take the day off," said Bai Peiwen. Though looking haggard, he appeared to have recovered quite a bit.

  "Oh," she said, feeling somewhat guilty and uneasy. She picked up her gsses from the bedside table and forced a smile. "I'm gd to see you're getting better. Your illness came quickly, but you're recovering fast too. Is there anything you'd like to eat?"

  "I′ve already had a bowl of porridge," Bai Peiwen replied. "The one you asked to be made for me yesterday."

  Fang Siying blushed a little. Her unease grew stronger. She had slept so soundly! That meant even Yazhu and Tingting must have seen her sleeping here. She turned and walked toward the door, saying, "Remember to take your medicine! It's time for another dose, and the medicine is on the bedside table next to you."

  "If you're willing to help, can you hand it to me?" he said.

  She hesitated for a moment, then walked over, poured a gss of water, and took a pill.

  She handed it to him, and he propped himself up with his hand. After the high fever, he still felt a little dizzy. She couldn't help but support him. After he took the medicine and settled back onto the pillow, she turned to leave, but he called out:

  "Miss Fang!" He called out, stopping her in her tracks as she turned to leave, gring at him.

  "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble during the night, and especially—I hope I didn't behave inappropriately in any way."

  She hesitated for a moment. "Oh, no, you didn't, sir."

  "Then, before you leave this room," he continued, his voice impossibly soft, so gentle it seemed to drip with tenderness, "please accept my gratitude and apologies. I thank you for everything—everything. And if I made any mistakes, I ask you to forgive me to the best of your ability."

  "Oh," she stammered, startled and a little flustered. "I′ve already said it was nothing at all. Well, goodbye, sir."

  She hurriedly left the room, walking briskly, almost fleeing. Even after returning to her own room, she couldn't quite understand why Bai Peiwen's face and voice carried such a unique sense of emotion—so intense, so joyous.