Harrison Yale watched her silhouette, his hands slowly propped on the bed, and sat up.
The smile on his lips gradually disappeared, and he couldn't help but cover his mouth, lightly coughing twice.
The color of his lips turned pale in an instant.
Damn it, to make it convincing, he let himself get a night of cold wind, and now it seems he overacted.
By the time the doctor came over, Harrison Yale was already lying on the bed asleep.
"Miss Aiden, Young Master Yale's high fever has come back, I'll try giving him another antipyretic injection. If the fever doesn't go down in a while, we must send him to the hospital immediately."
After checking, the doctor spoke with a serious expression.
"I'm fine, it's just a minor thing, an infusion and some sleep will fix it." Harrison Yale was woken up by the noise, squinting his dark eyes and lightly parting his lips.
With a tone of indifference, as if he didn't take his illness seriously at all.
