Chapter 7: Seeking a Doctor for a Fever, Do I Know How to Practice Medicine?

Wen Ling repeated several times that she wasn't feeling unwell before Qiao Hongyun finally returned to the next room, instructing her that she must speak up if she felt any discomfort.

Wen Ling felt utterly exhausted now; she gave a single response and retreated to her room.

The next day, Wen Ling felt as if she were experiencing sleep paralysis. Her forehead was burning hot, and the uncontrollable coughing and the aching weakness throughout her body served as constant reminders.

She had actually caught a cold.

In a daze, she fumbled for her phone, intending to call Qiao Hongyun, but in a momentary lapse of judgment, she dialed a number she hadn't contacted in three years.

Zhou Yinhé loved sleeping in; even the greatest matters in the world couldn't wake him. Wen Ling hadn't held much hope to begin with, so she hadn't even considered saying anything to him, yet she heard the sound of the call being answered.

Wen Ling's mind was still foggy from the high fever, and she froze instantly when a raspy voice came from the other end.

"Who is this?"

Zhou Yinhé hadn't slept all night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Wen Ling falling into the water yesterday, and the expression she had worn later when she was trying to act strong while explaining herself to him in a pitiful way.

When the phone rang, he had been looking at a text message he had sent to Wen Ling three years ago. During these three years, he didn't know how many times he had called or sent messages during bouts of drunken despair or late-night emotional breakdowns, but they were always disconnected numbers. Eventually, he finally got through, only to find a man had answered. He had searched for this phone number and address like a madman, and finally bought the number from this man, keeping it on a phone he rarely used.

"Speak." Having not slept all night, he was exceptionally irritable.

Wen Ling murmured, "Zhou Yinhé... *cough, cough*... I have a fever. It hurts so much."

Her voice was slow and weak, interspersed with coughing. Anyone could tell she was sick. Zhou Yinhé pursed his lips, thinking of his three years of stupidity, and forced himself to say coldly, "If you have a fever, find a doctor. Do I look like a medical professional?"

Upon hearing this, the tears Wen Ling had been holding back since the moment Zhou Yinhé answered the call flowed from the corner of one eye to the other, stinging so much that she had to close her eyes. She said bitterly, "You weren't like this before. You used to take care of me when I was sick."

"You said 'before.' Am I that stupid? To make you think you could deceive me again after three years," Zhou Yinhé said through gritted teeth.

Wen Ling bit her lip to keep from sobbing, and with a slight movement of her finger, she hung up the call.

She buried herself in the covers and cried for a long time before forcing herself to sit up and call Qiao Hongyun.

Qiao Hongyun rushed over, followed by the nanny who had looked after her since childhood.

Qiao Hongyun rambled, "Oh, my dear A-Ling, it's my fault for not forcing you to have a check-up last night."

Wen Ling buried her face in her pillow and rubbed it until a wet patch formed, then turned her head and said, "Auntie, it's not your fault."

Qiao Hongyun sighed, "It's a bit of a lung infection. I'll have someone prepare medicine and an IV for you." She turned to look at the worried-looking nanny, Auntie Zhou. "Sister Zhou, tell the chef to brew some pear soup. Drinking some will help soothe the lungs."

Auntie Zhou nodded and turned to leave the room in a hurry.

Qiao Hongyun felt Wen Ling's forehead. Seeing her eyes were moist, she sighed again and advised, "When you said you wanted to come to China, Madam wouldn't agree because she was afraid you'd get hurt coming back. Look at your eyes, all red from crying. If Madam and Sir find out, they'll surely be heartbroken."

"They haven't seen me in so long. They're running to a different country every day; they won't be heartbroken over me," Wen Ling said, pursing her lips in grievance.

"Don't talk nonsense. How could Madam and Sir not be heartbroken over you?"

Wen Ling didn't want to talk anymore. Grievance welled up inside her in waves, and her heart felt as sour and bitter as if it were soaked in vinegar.

*What did I do wrong? I was broken up with because of the plot! Why blame me? If you want to blame someone, blame the author! I'm just a female supporting character living in a novel, what choice do I have?*

Rebellious thoughts swirled in her heart. Wen Ling pouted aggrievedly and reached out to roughly wipe away her tears.

"Oh, my dear A-Ling, how can you be so rough? Can't you learn from that Consort Hua and wipe your tears a bit more gracefully?" Qiao Hongyun saw she was unhappy and intentionally teased her to cheer her up.

Wen Ling was indeed amused by her, and Qiao Hongyun breathed a sigh of relief. Receiving a call, she stood up and went outside to answer it.

Wen Ling comforted herself, thinking about how she would torment Zhou Yinhé once she won him back in the future, and she felt happy.

Qiao Hongyun returned with the medicine, with Auntie Zhou pushing a trolley by her side. Qiao Hongyun then set up the IV for Wen Ling.

Auntie Zhou patted Wen Ling gently through the quilt and coaxed her softly, "Sleep a little longer. Auntie Zhou will stay here and watch over you."

When Wen Ling was happy, her mouth became sweet. She said softly, "Thank you, Auntie Zhou."

As Wen Ling fell into a peaceful sleep, Zhou Yinhé was pacing the bedroom in a state of agitation, picking up his phone and putting it down repeatedly.

The volatility of his emotions turned his eyes bloodshot. He gritted his teeth and suddenly looked up, throwing his phone violently against the wall. The wall dented inward, and the phone screen shattered into pieces.

Butler Xu, who had come specifically to take care of Zhou Yinhé at Madam Zhou's request, heard the noise and ran over. He knocked on the door and asked anxiously, "Young Master? What happened?"

Zhou Yinhé didn't respond to the voice, his gaze staring fiercely at the phone as if he wanted to burn a hole through it.

Butler Xu had no choice but to use a spare key to open the door. Seeing the mangled phone on the floor and looking up at the wall, he realized that to dent the wall that deeply, an immense amount of force must have been used.

"Young Master, what is wrong with you?"

Madam Zhou had always called her most rebellious and difficult youngest son "Young Master" (literally 'Ancestor'), which resulted in everyone in the Zhou household, except for the stern Mr. Zhou, calling Zhou Yinhé "Young Master."

"Give me your phone," Zhou Yinhé said, sitting on the floor and reaching out his hand.

Butler Xu hesitated but eventually handed him the phone. As soon as Zhou Yinhé took it, he dialed a number.

"Jiang Jibai."

Seeing that the caller ID was the butler of the man he had saved as "Zhou Yinhé," Jiang Jibai answered, not expecting it to be Zhou Yinhé himself.

Jiang Jibai asked in confusion, "Why are you calling me from your butler's phone? Where is your phone?"

"Broken," Zhou Yinhé said bluntly. "Help me check where Wen Ling is staying, and while you're at it, check if she has called a doctor to her place."

Jiang Jibai was momentarily surprised but quickly reacted, letting out a lazy laugh. "Why don't you check yourself? The people around you are much more capable than the ones around me. Besides, doesn't Wen Ling have her own exclusive private doctors, nannies, and butlers?"

Back when Wen Ling lived at her grandfather's house, she had brought a whole entourage from the US—private doctors, butlers, nannies, and so on. Maintaining so many people wasn't a huge expense, but it was considered quite excessive.

"Just tell me if you'll help me check or not!" Zhou Yinhé said coldly.

Hearing this, Jiang Jibai knew Zhou Yinhé was losing his patience, so he could only say, "Fine, I'll check for you. I'll call you back in a bit."

"Make it quick."

After saying that, Zhou Yinhé hung up. He looked at Butler Xu and said, "I'll return your phone in a bit. Have someone buy me a new phone and transfer everything from my old phone to the new one, word for word."

Butler Xu picked up the phone from the floor and only turned back as he reached the door. "Young Master, don't go breaking mine too."

"If you break it, I'll compensate you! Ten phones!"

(End of Chapter)