Shen Tingyu glanced up at her. Seeing her looking a little flustered, his gaze softened instinctively. "Don't worry. Let me take a look first."
This "look" lasted for nearly a full hour.
At one point, Zhiqiu came in to announce that dinner had been prepared in the side hall.
Shen Tingyu acted as if he hadn't heard a thing, his lashes lowered as he focused on taking her pulse.
From Cui Lingyao's angle, she could see a slight crease forming between his eyebrows.
The atmosphere grew a little tense.
When his hand finally left her wrist, Cui Lingyao asked tentatively, "Have I caught a cold? Should I drink a bowl of ginger soup later?"
The crease between Shen Tingyu's brows didn't fade. It seemed he still couldn't get a clear reading of her pulse.
He stared at her face for a moment, then, instead of answering, posed a question of his own. "Have you felt any discomfort lately?"
