Lin Xi didn’t even know how she had ended up flat on the bed. The weight of the man on top of her was immense, pressing the very air from her lungs.

Song Xu was still burning up, and his breath felt like steam against her skin. Beads of sweat began to form on Lin Xi’s forehead from the proximity. It was stifling.

Her arms were still looped around his neck, while his head rested heavily on her shoulder. His eyes were tightly shut and his breathing was long and steady; he didn’t seem to be faking it this time.

“President Song… if you keep crushing me… I’m going to leave you to rot…” Lin Xi gasped out the threat, her voice lacking any real bite regardless of whether he could hear her or not.

The man didn’t respond. Lin Xi gave him a firm shove. She hadn’t expected much—she was currently being reminded exactly how heavy he was—but to her surprise, he actually moved.

Song Xu rolled to the other side of the bed. In the process of his tumbling, his already unbuttoned pajama top finally slipped off completely.

Lin Xi scrambled off the bed and stood by the mattress, hands on her hips, glaring at the unconscious man.

After staring at him for a long moment, she let out a huff and turned to leave the room.

—

Song Xu slowly opened his eyes, which were shot through with bloodshot veins. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He was utterly drained; his limbs felt as though they were weighed down by lead.

He had used the last of his strength just now. Now, he could only lie there and wonder if that “stubborn stone” of a girl would actually come back to check on him.

Ten minutes later, Lin Xi returned carrying a bowl of congee and a small dish of cold appetizers. Song Xu was in the exact same position she had left him in.

She frowned. Was he really not faking it?

She set the tray down and touched his forehead. He was sweating now, but his temperature was still high. He’d definitely need another dose of medicine later tonight.

“Lin Xi?” Song Xu’s eyes fluttered half-open, his voice like sandpaper. “Why are you in my room?”

“You have a fever and you were out cold,” Lin Xi said, using two pillows to prop his head up before draping a thin blanket over his bare torso. “I fed you some medicine earlier. Your temperature dropped a bit, but you’re still running hot.”

She poured a glass of warm water and held it out. “Drink some water first.”

Song Xu was parched; his throat felt like it was on fire. He stared at the glass and tried to reach for it, but his arm fell back onto the mattress before he could even touch the rim.

“No strength,” he muttered, looking at her with a frail, almost piteous expression. “Can you feed me?”

Lin Xi glanced at him, noting the look of “grievance” on his face. What does he have to be aggrieved about? Is he that thirsty?

She realized she really had forgotten to hydrate him. She sat on the edge of the bed and began feeding him water, one spoonful at a time.

Song Xu was indeed dehydrated. He drank three full glasses before finally signaling he’d had enough. By then, Lin Xi’s arm was starting to ache.

“Hungry.” After the water, Song Xu felt like his “health bar” had at least partially refilled.

Lin Xi set the glass down and picked up the bowl. She scooped up a spoonful of congee but didn’t move it toward him. Instead, she asked pointedly, “President Song, can you eat on your own now?”

“No.” He didn’t even attempt to try. The answer was immediate and final.

A spoonful of plain congee was shoved into his mouth, carrying a hint of her lingering annoyance.

To Song Xu, however, the bland congee tasted incredibly sweet. He watched her with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Lin Xi kept her gaze strictly focused on the bowl and his mouth, occasionally offering him a bite of the side dishes.

He decided this was the most delicious congee he had ever eaten in his life.

“President Song,” Lin Xi began, remembering her own agenda. She figured this was as good a time as any. “Can we sign a contract later?”

“What kind of contract?” Song Xu’s brow furrowed slightly.

“For me to sell your second-hand items,” Lin Xi said, forcing a polite smile as she fed him another mouthful. “Can you authorize me to sell things like your old socks, handkerchiefs, or face masks?”

“Used socks?” Song Xu’s frown deepened. “Are you joking?”

Lin Xi shook her head. “I’d wash them first, obviously.”

Song Xu narrowed his eyes. He was feverish, but his mind was still sharp. “You aren’t planning on selling my used underwear too, are you?”

Lin Xi blinked guiltily. The thought had crossed her mind, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “Ahem. I’m not that twisted.”

“Lin Xi,” Song Xu’s gaze turned sharp. “You’re a law student. Use your head before you act. Think about the people who buy intimate apparel—what is their motivation? Is it even legal?”

Lin Xi froze. She had been so focused on the profit margins that she hadn’t considered the darker implications. Song Xu’s warning was like a cold splash of water, instantly snapping her back to reality.

“I understand. People who buy that stuff… are pretty sick.” Acknowledging her mistake, her attitude toward him softened considerably. “Fine, no intimate items. I’ll stick to coats, shoes, and accessories.”

Song Xu gave a satisfied “mm.” “I’m still hungry.”

“I’ll go get another bowl.” Lin Xi stood up and headed for the kitchen.

Left alone, Song Xu reached for his phone. It was flooded with messages and missed calls, mostly from his mother.

Darn. He had set his phone to silent. Missing this many calls from her was practically an invitation for an explosion. He quickly fired off a reply, explaining that he had pulled an all-nighter and had been sleeping with his phone muted during the day.

The moment he sent the text, he heard Lin Xi’s footsteps. He tossed the phone back and flopped down, closing his eyes.

Lin Xi sat back down. “President Song, this bowl is a bit hot. We’ll have to take it slow.”

Song Xu blinked in acknowledgment.

Lin Xi scooped a steaming spoonful and blew on it gently. Once she felt it had cooled sufficiently, she brought it to his lips.

Song Xu opened his mouth, and a spoonful of piping-hot congee went straight in.

“Pffft!” Song Xu spat half of it back out, his face contorting in pain. “Too hot!”

“I’m so sorry!” Lin Xi scrambled to set the bowl down and grabbed some tissues to wipe his mouth. “I didn’t realize it was still that hot. Are you okay?”

“My chest is burning,” Song Xu complained, sticking his tongue out as he swallowed the remainder.

Lin Xi leaned over to clean the spilled congee from his skin. After dabbing it with tissues, she fetched a warm, damp towel. She started by wiping his face to help him cool down, then moved down his neck.

She continued wiping downward, cleaning all the way to his abdominal muscles.

Song Xu secretly clenched his fists, slowly bracing his legs under the covers.

“There, all clean and much cooler,” Lin Xi said, straightening up with a sigh of relief. “President Song, should we try again?”

She didn’t get an answer. Instead, she heard a sharp, audible gasp from behind her.

Whirling around in a panic, Lin Xi saw Song Chen standing in the doorway alongside a gorgeously dressed, middle-aged woman.

Song Xu looked up and froze. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

Xu Wantang ignored her son. Her eyes were fixed on Lin Xi, her gaze filled with sharp astonishment. “And who might you be?”

Lin Xi was still holding the wet towel. Hearing what Song Xu had just called the woman, she immediately realized her identity. She gave a respectful nod. “Hello, Madam Xu. I am the live-in helper hired by President Song. My name is Lin Xi.”

“A helper?” Xu Wantang looked from Lin Xi to her shirtless son. “Then what exactly were the two of you just doing?”