Contradicting Hearts - Chapter 1 - Fever
The curtains were drawn tightly, enveloping the room in darkness. White, heavy air conditioning flowed continuously from the vent, yet the curtain fabric blocking the sunlight was still scorching hot.
Hao Sijia lay at the edge of the bed, her head hanging upside down, having shed her clothes except for a camisole and panties. The cold face mask provided temporary relief from her pounding headache, but her body alternated between hot and cold, with muscles in her back and thighs aching intermittently.
Hao Sijia glanced at the empty phone screen beside her, confirmed the signal was full, and then tossed the phone onto the floor.
When Lin Jize entered, he stumbled twice over high heels and a coat scattered in the entryway. After tripping over pants on the third attempt, he sighed and flicked on the wall light.
The living room was a complete mess, with takeout boxes and two or three tubs of instant noodles that had started to smell piled on the coffee table. Bags and underwear were strewn across the sofa and carpet, and the trash can lay overturned, with potato chip crumbs spilling onto the floor from the packaging.
Lin Jize righted the trash can, used his fingers to pluck a lace bra hanging from the floor lamp, pulled open the curtains, and opened the window, hoping to clear the room’s odor quickly.
Hao Sijia paused her leg, which had been swinging on her knee, upon hearing the commotion in the living room.
In a few seconds, the phone tossed on the floor was placed back beside her. A dry, slightly cool hand pressed against her forehead, and the faint smell of formaldehyde mingled with the cold air invading her nostrils.
Seeing Hao Sijia’s slightly furrowed brow, Lin Jize stepped back and withdrew his hand.
“How high is the fever?”
Hao Sijia opened her mouth, her voice hoarse and unable to speak despite several attempts.
Hao Sijia: “…..”
“Forget it, just keep quiet.” Lin Jize shook the mercury thermometer and inserted it under Hao Sijia’s armpit. “Hold it there for a while.”
Lin Jize turned off the air conditioning, pulled a blanket over Hao Sijia’s stomach, and drew the curtains open. The sudden influx of light made Hao Sijia squint in discomfort, unable to speak, though she managed to mutter a few indignant sounds, likely not pleasant words.
Lin Jize’s gaze fell on the wine glass on the bedside table. After sniffing it and confirming it contained cold medicine, his furrowed brow relaxed slightly.
“The phone’s out of battery. I’ve been in the laboratory these past few days.” Whether explaining or talking to himself, Lin Jize checked the thermometer. “39.6 degrees. How many days has it been like this?”
Hao Sijia cleared her throat, tried several times without hearing her own voice, and finally resigned herself to using her fingers to indicate two.
Lin Jize removed the nearly dry face mask from Hao Sijia’s face. After a few minutes, Hao Sijia heard footsteps returning.
Her nose wasn’t blocked; she could smell the scent of Qiu Li Gao1.
Lin Jize flicked Hao Sijia’s forehead, signaling her to sit up. She squirmed a bit, seemingly unwilling to rise. Lin Jize grabbed the back of her neck and lifted her from the bed, his tone and actions equally devoid of gentleness. “Drink it.”
She knew where the Qiu Li Gao was kept; Lin Jize had reminded her several times, but she simply didn’t want to prepare it herself.
Hao Sijia leaned against the headboard, openly scrutinizing Lin Jize. Despite the heat, Lin Jize rarely sweated, yet his T-shirt was now soaked. He casually removed his shirt, revealing pale skin tinged with a faint red from the heat. Clothed, Lin Jize appeared as a pure college student; shirtless, his toned muscles rendered him alluringly seductive.
Hao Sijia’s gaze involuntarily followed Lin Jize’s Adonis belt downwards. If she had the strength, she might have rushed over to yank off the bothersome jeans he wore.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Hao Sijia reached out to tap Lin Jize’s phone, which was charging on the bedside table. Nine percent battery-seemed Lin Jize hadn’t lied earlier.
The water stopped shortly after.
“Get me my underwear!”
Hao Sijia jumped off the bed and went to the side room, rummaging through the drawers of the wardrobe. Finally, with a mischievous grin, she pulled out a pure white thong from the bottom. Last Valentine’s Day, she had gone to buy lingerie, and the salesperson had said there was a buy-one-get-one-free deal. So she picked out this thong for Lin Jize, but unfortunately, he never wanted to wear it.
“Are you crazy?” Lin Jize glanced at the underwear she handed over.
“Yeah,” Sijia replied in a cheeky tone, “I’m sick, remember?”
She heard Lin Jize click his tongue, but he still took the thong.
In the end, Sijia didn’t get much of a show. The unromantic Lin Jize wrapped a towel tightly around his waist and, noticing her gaze lingering on his abs, even put on a shirt.
Sijia could smell the aroma of noodles, but they tasted like cardboard in her mouth. She really had no appetite.
“Why are your fried eggs always triangular?” Sijia poked at the fried egg floating in the soup, trying to find an excuse to avoid eating the noodles.
But Jize didn’t take the bait. He used his chopsticks to break off the extra corners of the egg in her bowl and stuffed them into his mouth. “There, it’s round.”
“Oh.” Sijia took a bite of the egg, still unwilling to give up. “Aren’t there experts who say you shouldn’t eat eggs when you have a fever?”
Jize grabbed a napkin and wiped the soup she had spilled on the table. “Just eat. It won’t kill you.”
Throwing a tantrum or playing dumb didn’t work; Jize wasn’t buying it.
“When did you take the cold medicine?”
“Around two? Three? I forgot, probably in the early morning.”
Jize calculated the time and figured it had been about six hours. He handed her a paracetamol tablet. “I’ve told you many times, cold medicine doesn’t help with a fever. Even taking cold medicine won’t bring it down. Next time, take this paracetamol.” Knowing she wouldn’t remember, he tossed the pill packet in front of her. “It’s the one in the blue box with the head on it.”
Sijia found Jize’s nagging really annoying. “Got it.”
After getting her a glass of water, Jize went to wash the dishes.
Sijia glanced around the room. The living room was already tidied up, and the dishes that had been piled in the sink were gone. Jize must have sprayed some air freshener too. She took a breath, and the air smelled of lemon.
She looked at Jize’s back and felt a sense of warmth. Someone who didn’t know them might even think they were a couple.
“The water’s too hot,” Sijia said, resting her chin on her hand.
Without turning around, Jize replied, “Blow on it.”
But they weren’t a couple. What was Jize to her? He was like her year-round housekeeper, cooking, washing dishes, mopping the floor, doing laundry… whatever a housekeeper did, he did.
And what a housekeeper didn’t do, Jize still had to do.
Feeling her arms wrap around him, Jize’s body stiffened. “Your fever hasn’t gone down. Stop messing around.”
Sijia was only wearing underwear on her lower half, her long legs rubbing against Jize’s thighs. Jize chuckled as she continued to rub against him. He rinsed the soap off his hands and turned off the faucet, asking knowingly, “What do you want?”
Sijia didn’t answer, her hand slipping under Jize’s towel, tugging at the thin strap of his thong.
Lin Jize turned around and reciprocated by pulling down Hao Sijia’s strap.
“Been this busy for over a week?” Hao Sijia bit down hard on Lin Jize’s neck, trying to kiss him, but he turned his head away.
Lin Jize would sleep with her, but wouldn’t kiss her.
Hao Sijia seemed accustomed to it, merely lowering her head to kiss his chin. Lin Jize supported her waist, lifting her onto the sofa. Neither wore much clothing, and soon they were tangled together, bare-skinned.
Hao Sijia was still a bit feverish, and Lin Jize’s cool body against hers made her shiver. He reached up to turn on the heater and pulled a blanket over both of them.
Lin Jize pressed against her neck, his grip firm, yet his face remained impassive. To Hao Sijia, their encounters felt like routine, his indifferent demeanor a real mood killer.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, and stubbornly, she swallowed the moan that was about to escape.
But Lin Jize pried her mouth open with his fingers, pinched her behind, urging her to let it out.
What kind of twisted logic was this?
He remained composed, yet wanted her to act as if she were in ecstasy.
Hao Sijia pushed his chest with her knee, flipped over to straddle him, and tapped his face, raising an eyebrow, “If anyone’s calling, it’s you.”
…
Sweaty and feeling much better, Hao Sijia realized Lin Jize was more effective than medicine. Though her voice was nearly gone, Lin Jize thoughtfully left a cup of warm water mixed with Qiu Li Gao by the bed before retreating to his room.
Lying in bed, she played Xiao Xiao Le2, but her phone hadn’t been charged in days, and after a few rounds, it went dark.
She glanced at another phone on the bedside table. Lin Jize’s phone had no password, containing only WeChat3 and some educational apps, no unnecessary entertainment apps, except for the flashy Xiao Xiao Le she had installed earlier, which he hadn’t deleted.
She opened it, finding the same laggy screen from last time, tapping repeatedly with no response.
Suddenly, a message popped up, and she accidentally clicked it.
It was a friend request.
The woman in the profile picture was unfamiliar, but the name was not.
Qin Ya, Lin Jize’s ex-girlfriend.
Rumor had it she went abroad for an exchange program, so now she’s back?
Hao Sijia wasn’t one to pry into others’ secrets, so she turned off Lin Jize’s phone, slipped on a nightgown, and headed to the side room.
The side room was dark, the blanket covering most of Lin Jize’s face. Assuming he was asleep, she set down the phone and prepared to leave. But suddenly, his hand emerged from the blanket, wrapping around her waist.
Startled, she barely managed to stifle a “Whoa” before he pulled her into the covers.
Wondering if he was dreaming, Lin Jize pressed his forehead against hers, murmuring, “No more fever.”
Footnote:
- Qiu Li Gao(秋梨膏): Qiu Li Gao is a traditional Chinese syrup made from pears, often used to soothe sore throats and improve respiratory health.
- Xiao Xiao Le(消消乐):Xiao Xiao Le is a popular Chinese mobile puzzle game similar to match-three games, where players match colored tiles or icons to clear them from the board and earn points.
- WeChat(微信):A versatile Chinese messaging and social media app that allows users to chat, make voice and video calls, share moments, and use various other services like mobile payments.