I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

When you're caught up in love, all other problems are forgotten.

His hand slipped under her skirt, and she said:

"You have a high fever, you're going to burn me!"

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against her earlobe: "It'll burn you."

His fingers hooked onto the fine velvet fabric at the hem of her skirt, and with a forceful tug, the sound of tearing fabric was exceptionally clear in the quiet bedroom. Before she could even gasp, he had already bent down:

"You deserve to be cold to me."

Yun Muqian's breathing faltered for a moment. She wanted to say, "I wasn't being cold to you," but before she could finish speaking, he kissed her back. His tongue, burning hot, swept across her lower lip, like a silent punishment.

The two people's body temperatures rose under the blankets.

Just then, a sound came from the direction of the entrance hall; it was Zhou Xue's voice: "Qihan, Qihan, I'm back."

Then came the sound of footsteps. Yun Muqian remained calm, while Qin Qihan stopped. The two listened as the footsteps grew closer and closer, having already passed the entrance and heading towards the corridor.

Should we expose ourselves now?

Yun Muqian knew that now was not a good time. She had nothing right now and no ability to fight against Zhou Xue. If the Zhou family wanted to erase her existence, it would be a huge problem.

Yun Muqian bent down, picked up the pair of high heels from the floor, stuffed them under the bed, and then shrank back into the blankets, wrapping herself up tightly.

Perhaps in Qin Qihan's eyes, Yun Muqian did this for him.

The footsteps stopped at the bedroom door.

"Qi Han?"

Zhou Xue's voice came from the doorway. She was carrying a paper bag containing snacks she had just bought—steaming hot grilled skewers and a serving of freshly roasted chestnuts.

"I bought some from a roadside stall," Zhou Xue said as she walked in, placing the paper bag on the bedside table. "There's also a plate of roasted chestnuts, still warm. Try some; when you're sick, don't you crave these things?"

Qin Qihan's voice was calm: "Just leave it there."

Zhou Xue took two steps toward the bedside, then stopped and looked down at the empty bowl on the bedside table.

There was still a trace of dark red bean paste on the rim of the bowl, as if someone had just drunk from it.

"You've had some porridge?" Zhou Xue asked, her tone tinged with a hint of surprised relief. "Looks like your appetite is better, that's good."

Qin Qihan leaned against the headboard and hummed in agreement.

Zhou Xue walked to the bedside and sat down, reaching out to touch his forehead: "It seems to have receded a little."

Under the covers, Yun Muqian curled up, her breathing light and shallow, afraid of making any sound.

She could hear her own heartbeat, pounding against her eardrums, and she could also hear Zhou Xue's voice outside the blanket, so close it seemed to be right above her head.

"Oh, by the way, I've chosen my wedding dress. The designer released three versions, and I picked the one I like best. Would you like to see a picture?"

Qin Qihan said in a low voice, "As long as you like it, that's fine."

"When are we going to take wedding photos together once you're feeling better?"

She asked so naturally, as if the matter was already settled and all that was needed was to set a date.

Yun Muqian didn't want Qin Qihan to agree, so she took his hand under the covers and intertwined their fingers. For those few seconds, the air under the covers almost froze.

Qin Qihan simply said, "Let's wait a while."

Yun Muqian was drenched in sweat. She gently kissed his palm, and he reached under the covers and pinched her cheek, then said:

"And I'm not really thinking about marriage right now."