Yang Xiaomian's fever had kept coming back for nearly a whole day. A little after five in the afternoon, he groggily opened his eyes.
The room was dim, with a small bedside lamp still on. Fang Ci sat close beside him, leaning against the headboard and reading.
Noticing he was awake, Fang Ci set down his book and leaned over with a smile, pressing his forehead against Yang Xiaomian's. He stayed there a moment before drawing back.
"Your fever's gone."
Whenever Fang Ci got too close, Yang Xiaomian's heart always raced and his cheeks burned. Even after all this time together, that still hadn't changed.
"Why is it so dark? Is it nighttime?"
"No, it's pouring today, and the wind's strong too. Looks like it'll just be the two of us celebrating the Lantern Festival."
Fang Ci gently pinched his cheek. "But your fever only just broke. It's better not to go out."
Yang Xiaomian nuzzled his hand. "Just the two of us sounds nice too."
"There's a little pot of soup simmering in the kitchen. Want some?"
"Mm... I'm so hungry."
Fang Ci got up, picked up the clothes at the foot of the bed, and put them on. "I tried waking you for lunch twice, but you kept whining and refusing to eat. Of course you're starving now."
Wrapped in the quilt, Yang Xiaomian smiled sheepishly.
"Want me to carry you to the bathroom to wash up?" Fang Ci ruffled his bangs. "Feeling weak?"
Usually rather clueless, Yang Xiaomian had finally caught on this time and nodded along.
"My arms and legs feel all limp. I have no strength."
Fang Ci's eyes curved as he smiled. He bent down and easily scooped Yang Xiaomian up, supporting his bottom with one hand as he carried him into the bathroom.