"Thump, thump, thump."
In the silent tent, Mu Fan clearly heard his own rapid heartbeat.
"Senior Brother Mu, I feel terrible, dizzy, want to vomit..."
Qing Yuan nestled in his arms, rubbing uncomfortably against his neck.
Her burning forehead, hot breath, and intoxicating scent burned his nerves.
"Once you drink the medicine, the fever will go away soon. Just hold on a little longer."
Mu Fan instinctively moved back a bit, trying to put some distance between him and the young man in his arms. His tone, however, was gentler than ever before.
"No medicine, it's so bitter, I don't want to."
Qing Yuan, dizzy from the fever, insisted on burrowing into his arms.
The more he tried to distance himself, the tighter Qing Yuan clung, seemingly seeking some rare coolness from his body.
"Fine, no medicine. If you feel better, we won't drink anymore."
Mu Fan gave a bitter smile as he gently held Qing Yuan's burning body, coaxing him like a child.
"No drinking, better soon."