The pill shot out like a tiny projectile.
Gong Feng's eyes froze.
Lin Che, in contrast, looked betrayed by life itself. She let out a weak, pathetic whimper as if she were the one wronged, and turned her face away, pulling the blanket up to her ear in protest.
He stared at her for a moment, his expression a mixture of astonishment… and something dangerously close to laughter, though it never reached his lips.
He attempted again.
"Lin Che," he said patiently, "it's medicine. You must—"
Before he could finish, she peeked with one eye, saw the pill approaching, and immediately shut her mouth so tightly her jaw trembled.
He tried gently prying her lips apart."Hmnnn!"She shook her head.
"It isn't poison," he muttered under his breath.
"Hmnnh!"Her refusal grew louder.
Another attempt.Another spit.
The pill bounced off the pillow.
He ran a hand slowly down his face. For the first time in a very long time, he did not know what to do.
She let out a soft cry of misery, a tear rolling down her cheek—not from emotion but from the bitterness that had touched her tongue. She kicked weakly at the blanket in irritation, her foot hitting nothing but air.
This woman…She would thrash herself into exhaustion before taking one small pill.
He stared at her for a long, thoughtful moment.
Then he closed his eyes.
There was only one method left.
He lifted another pill, looked at it for a breath, and then—without hesitation—placed it inside his own mouth.
He leaned forward.
Her unfocused eyes fluttered open halfway, confused, dazed, and completely unaware of what was about to happen.
When his lips touched hers, she made a faint, surprised sound—barely a hum—but did not push him away, too fever-heavy and half-conscious to react properly.
He gently coaxed her lips apart, transferring the pill with careful precision. She instinctively sucked in a breath, and the pill slid down her throat in one swift swallow.
She blinked slowly, unaware of what had just happened.
He withdrew, only for a moment, then brought water into his mouth, leaned again, and passed it to her the same way—gentle, warm, steady. Her throat moved as she swallowed.
When he finally pulled back, a soft, nearly invisible warmth lingered on his lips. He exhaled, long and controlled, because allowing any emotion to surface now would be dangerous.
She frowned weakly, as though tasting something bitter at the back of her throat.
"…sweet…" she whispered faintly, confused.Then, "…bitter…"Then, with great suffering, "…hmnnn…"
Her foot kicked the blanket again in protest.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
The blanket slipped off her body, falling to her waist. He moved instantly to pull it back up—only to freeze when he saw the faint, scattered marks on her hands. Tiny red dots. Faint splashes. The unmistakable signs of kitchen burns.
His expression darkened.
Slowly, dangerously.
He lifted her hand, turning it gently in the light, his jaw tightening with every burn he found.
Who had made her work like this? Who had let her be exhausted to the point of collapsing in the wrong room? Who had pushed her to this state?
The tenderness that had filled the room only moments ago evaporated, replaced by a chilling cold that cut through the quiet air.
He stood, walked to the window, and pulled out his phone.
His voice, when he spoke, was low. Controlled. Deadly calm.
"Investigate what happened with the visitors at the Gong mansion today."
His thumb pressed the call button.
Someone answered immediately.
He didn't allow a single second to pass.
"Find out everything that happened in the mansion today!"
...
Lin Che woke up slowly, as if rising from the bottom of a deep, warm lake. Her eyelids felt heavy, sticky with sleep, but when she finally managed to force them open, the room swayed slightly before settling into focus.
Her headache was gone.
Her body, however, still felt strangely hollow, as though all her energy had been poured out and used some place she couldn't remember clearly.
She blinked, looked around, and froze when she realized—
This wasn't the room she fell asleep in.
It was the guest room she'd been assigned to… yet something about it felt off, as if she had just stepped out of another place entirely. A memory—faint and slipping—floated in her mind. A warm light. A low voice. A steady presence sitting beside her.
Even through the narrow slits of her half-awake eyes, she had seen someone.
A man.
Gong Feng.
The image was so clear in her mind that it made her heart jolt… but then she shook her head quickly.No. Impossible. She must have been dreaming. A fever could make people imagine the strangest things. She must have wandered into her room and slept deeply, and everything else was just a hallucination.
Right?…Right.
She pushed herself to sit upright, accidentally pulling the blankets too hard and nearly tumbling forward. When she steadied herself and looked at the clock on the wall, her entire body stiffened.
11:03 p.m.
The party was supposed to start at 11:30.
She shot upright.
"Oh no—!"
Her voice came out hoarse. She coughed a little, stumbling toward the wardrobe to check if she had anything to wear. But something on the nightstand caught her eye.
A small, elegant box.
She blinked. She definitely hadn't noticed that when she first woke up. She walked closer, confused, and lifted the lid.
Inside lay a dress.
A silky, baby-blue gown so soft and smooth that it shimmered even in the dim room light. It was delicately embroidered, subtly jeweled along the neckline, and unmistakably expensive—far beyond anything she could ever afford.
A small folded card was placed on top.
She picked it up, held her breath, and opened it.
Wear this to the party.
No signature. No name.
Lin Che looked around the room once, twice, as if expecting someone to jump out from behind the curtains and claim responsibility. But the room remained still.
"…The Gong family must have prepared it," she whispered to herself.
Maybe even Gong Rui. Maybe it was repayment for the dishes she had made. The thought made her smile, a little bashful, a little proud.
She dressed quickly, slipping into the gown with trembling fingers. It fit her perfectly—almost suspiciously so—but she didn't think too deeply about it. Her hair was simple, slightly messy from sleep, but she smoothed it down as best she could.
Even with no makeup, her reflection looked soft, fresh, almost glowing.
When she finally opened the door to step out—
She nearly screamed.
Nan Lu was standing right there, arms crossed, foot tapping angrily.
"Lin Che! Where the hell have you been?! I have been searching everywhere for you!"