Chapter 48: Yan Yichen Has a Fever (3)

The heat on Yan Yichen’s forehead was still high, though not as scorching as before. The fever medication from earlier seemed to be working, and Meng Yi’er let out a quiet sigh of relief.

It had only been a few seconds. Meng Yi’er was just about to withdraw her slender hand when, the moment her fingers left his brow, her wrist was suddenly seized in a firm grip.

The high fever had left Yan Yichen’s mind clouded, his consciousness drifting. He vaguely sensed someone tending to him, but it felt like a dream. In the haze, he became aware of a pair of delicate, cool hands gently touching his chest and his waist, each brush of her fingertips sending a tremor through his soul.

The sensation was familiar—a memory from long ago. The faint, elegant fragrance from her body was one he had never forgotten, a scent that lingered in his mind.

The pain and heat left him powerless. His head was heavy, his eyelids unwilling to open. Yet when he felt that gentle touch once more, the pain seemed to ebb, and he mustered enough strength to grasp that soft, cool hand.

Meng Yi’er was startled by his sudden movement, her body going rigid. She quickly lowered her head, meeting Yan Yichen’s dark, burning gaze.

“You’re awake?” she asked, her voice catching before joy lit up her face.

No matter what had happened, it was enough that he was awake. At least now she wouldn’t be plagued by guilt for ignoring his illness.

Yan Yichen saw the worry on her face, and the delight that bloomed there when she realized he was awake filled him with unexpected happiness, making him forget his pain and discomfort for a moment.

It really was her.

To see her troubled and anxious for his sake, even if only briefly, made him feel content, even blessed.

For a long while, Yan Yichen said nothing. His gaze—intense and hazy from fever—remained fixed on Meng Yi’er, a faint, ambiguous smile playing at his lips. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but the searing heat from his grip quickly spread from her wrist through her entire body. Instinctively, Meng Yi’er tried to free herself.

Sensing her struggle, Yan Yichen tightened his hold and, before she could react, pulled her towards him. Bent over as she was, Meng Yi’er couldn’t keep her balance. With a startled cry, she toppled forward, landing unreservedly atop him.

Yan Yichen’s lips curled into a gentle smile. His large hand quickly circled her slender waist, holding her fast, his cheek pressing close to her neck as he greedily drank in her scent.

He thought to himself that such moments were rare, whether this was a dream or reality—he had no intention of letting her go.

Meng Yi’er could feel the frantic beating of both their hearts. His hot breath caressed her neck, and his feverish body radiated heat through the thin fabric of her clothes, making her shiver.

Yan Yichen watched as her fair, dewy face and neck gradually flushed with a delicate pink. His dark eyes gleamed as her ruby lips parted slightly, sending a ripple through his heart. His body tensed, desire swelling within him, clamoring to possess her completely.

Suddenly, Yan Yichen cupped the back of her head, pressing her down, and his burning lips captured hers.

Meng Yi’er froze in shock, her mind blank. When she regained her senses, she realized Yan Yichen was already kissing her deeply, hungrily savoring her sweetness.

This wretched man—taking advantage of her yet again!

She had cared for him out of kindness, and the first thing he did upon waking was to steal another kiss.

Unforgivable!

“Yan Yichen, let me go—” Meng Yi’er protested in broken breaths, struggling to push herself from him, but his feverish kiss left her breathless.

Yan Yichen frowned in displeasure, seized her hands, and with a swift movement, rolled over, pinning her beneath him so she could not escape.