Murphy's face was slightly flushed. Yang Yi initially thought she was hot and asked her about it, but Murphy said she didn't want the air conditioning turned down any lower. "I'm a bit cold." Murphy's words from earlier still echoed in Yang Yi's ears.
Now sensing something was off, Yang Yi looked more closely. This wasn't a normal flush—it wasn't just the lighting! It was a kind of feverish redness, similar to high-altitude redness on the cheeks, or like someone who can't hold their liquor getting flushed after drinking, caused by dilated capillaries!
"What's wrong?" Yang Yi's sudden, unwavering gaze made Murphy feel a bit uneasy, but in her dizzy state, she couldn't muster the energy to think much about it.
Suddenly, Yang Yi stood up, stretched his arm all the way across the dining table, and pressed it against Murphy's forehead.
Murphy was stunned, as if she'd been suddenly cornered, staring blankly at Yang Yi, who looked at her with concern.
Beside them, Xixi watched the commotion with wide eyes, but her little hands were busy gripping a chicken wing as she munched away, her mouth never stopping.
Yang Yi's expression turned serious. He felt the temperature of Murphy's forehead—it was scorching hot, clearly a problem. He couldn't help but scold, "Why are you so hot?"
"Hot?" Murphy asked, dazed.
Yang Yi put down the chopsticks in his left hand, walked around to her side of the table, gently cupped Murphy's head, and felt her forehead again to confirm. He reproached her, "It's really hot. You have a fever—why didn't you say anything?"
Murphy's head was truly spinning. When Yang Yi cupped her face, she didn't even have the strength to resist. Instead, leaning into his arms felt like finding support, making her even more dizzy. "Fever? Huh... do I?"
Coming back from Beijing today, Murphy had felt a bit fatigued. She thought it was just exhaustion from the past few days. Even when she mentioned it to Mo Xiaojuan, she asked if she looked like she had bags under her eyes, as if she hadn't rested well.
Mo Xiaojuan had laughed and comforted her, "Sis, your face is so rosy! That's the color of health, the taste of happiness! Hurry up, go to my brother-in-law and let him pamper you some more!"
At the time, Murphy still had the energy to chase after the blabbering Mo Xiaojuan, but she had no idea her weariness wasn't from tiredness or lack of sleep...
"You really have a fever! Ah, what can I say about you? A grown woman like you, and you don't even know you're running a fever." Seeing Murphy's listless state, Yang Yi grew anxious. Suddenly, he bent down and scooped her up.
"Don't, I'm dizzy..." Murphy wanted to pout and argue, but the sudden sensation of being lifted made her jump. She instinctively wrapped her slender arms tightly around Yang Yi's neck, afraid of falling.
Yang Yi just carried her to the sofa, then turned to get the medical kit he kept at home. He pulled out a mercury thermometer, shook it down, and handed it to Murphy to tuck under her arm.
"Let's see what the temperature is in a bit!" Yang Yi sat on the sofa beside her, speaking with exasperation. "If you feel bad, say it earlier! When I touched you just now, you were so hot you could've boiled an egg."
"Stop scolding me, okay?" Murphy covered her eyes, her voice weak and pitiful, her lips pale and bloodless.
"What's wrong with Mama?" Xixi, her mouth greasy and hands dirty, climbed down from her chair and ran over, asking.
"Mommy is sick! She probably has a fever." Yang Yi, quick-eyed and nimble, caught Xixi's little hand, still stained with sauce, just as she was about to put it on the sofa.
Yang Yi carried his daughter to the bathroom to wash her hands and face. "Are you full?"
"I'm full!" Xixi pointed at her round little belly, giggling. "Daddy, look! My tummy is so big from eating!"
Yang Yi didn't mind much, but if Murphy saw, she'd definitely say the little girl wasn't being ladylike!
"Daddy, Daddy!" As they were about to leave, Xixi grabbed her father's hand and placed it on her own forehead, shouting, "Daddy, check if Xixi is sick too!"
She had seen her dad use his hand to check her mom's forehead temperature and thought there was some magical detection method involved!
Yang Yi chuckled and ruffled the little girl's airy bangs. "Alright, you're not sick. Go play now. Daddy needs to take care of Mommy."
Xixi obediently nodded, but instead of playing, she hugged her big teddy bear and watched her mom and dad from the side.
"38.8 degrees! Almost 39!" Yang Yi frowned.
"That's not too bad." Murphy forced a smile, looking at Xixi, who was watching her with concern. "It's not serious. I'll just sleep it off."
"How can that be? How long have you had this fever? If you don't bring it down, it'll just get hotter!" Yang Yi shook his head. "No, I need to take you to the hospital."
"No, I don't want to go to the hospital." Murphy reacted strongly.
"I'll put some makeup on you. No one will recognize you!" Yang Yi thought she was worried about her identity being exposed.
"No, I don't want to go to the hospital!" Murphy curled up on the sofa like a little girl, whining pitifully. "It's only 38 degrees. I don't want to go to the hospital—they'll give me an IV..."
Yang Yi understood—she was afraid of needles!
Just as Yang Yi was feeling both amused and exasperated, Xixi ran over, struggling to carry her big teddy bear. She said sweetly, "Mama, Xixi gives you the big teddy bear, okay? If you hug it, you'll get better soon."
Murphy smiled warmly and rubbed her daughter's little cheek, but Yang Yi made Xixi put the bear aside. "Xixi, your mom is sick right now. She needs a quiet, well-ventilated space. The big teddy bear is too big, and hugging it will make her hot."
Since Murphy refused to go to the hospital, Yang Yi had to think of other ways.
Bandaging or treating minor injuries was Yang Yi's specialty. In his medical kit, he had plenty of spare bandages and medications. Though unlikely to be needed, he'd prepared medical tools and enough drugs to extract a bullet and dress a wound for himself, just in case.
But treating a fever—this "minor illness"—wasn't something Yang Yi was good at, and he didn't have ordinary fever reducers at home. He had special drugs that could forcibly lower body temperature, but they caused significant harm to the body, so he certainly couldn't use them on Murphy.
So Yang Yi had to go out to buy medicine, leaving the messy dishes on the table untouched—something he normally couldn't stand.
By the time he returned with the fever reducer, Murphy had already fallen asleep, dazed, on the sofa.
Yang Yi woke her up and coaxed her into taking the medicine. "After you drink this, get a good sleep. Don't worry, you'll be better by tomorrow!"
Murphy's consciousness was already hazy. She just felt herself leaning against Yang Yi's chest, drinking the medicine, and then, as if floating on clouds, being carried by Yang Yi to the guest room where he slept... Finally, tucked into the warm blankets, Murphy fell into a deep sleep.