Leng Yu Yan gritted her teeth, "Ye Yiheng, are you sick?!"
"I am indeed sick, and quite seriously too." Ye Yiheng raised his hand to his forehead, muttering softly, "I'm not sure if my cold disease is about to flare up. I feel very dizzy."
As he spoke, his tall figure swayed slightly.
Leng Yu Yan pressed against his pulse without distinguishing the pulse pattern before he seized her wrist in return.
"Stay with me and rest for a while."
His voice was clear and crisp, tinged with a hint of pitifulness.
Leng Yu Yan's red lips tightened slightly, pondering momentarily before saying, "The capital city is not as cold as Beilan City, but since last night, it has started to snow. It's still best to keep warm."
"Of course."
A sly gleam flickered through Ye Yiheng's narrow phoenix eyes as he exerted a slight force on his grip around her pale wrist, leading her away from the guest residence.
