The petite little wife: don't misunderstand the proud president

When Lan Xinhui was on the phone with Wang Zichen at noon, she told him not to pick her up after get off work, but to go home early and rest.

After get off work, Lan Xinhui took a taxi home, and when she went upstairs to the bedroom, she saw Wang Zichen lying on the bed, who was quite heavy.

She quietly touched his forehead, and was startled by the heat on his forehead.

She hurried to the bathroom to get a wet towel and put it on his forehead.

Wang Zichen forcefully opened his eyes, saw that it was her, and tried to smile: "Are you back?"

Lan Xinhui nodded, and said worriedly: "You have a fever, your forehead is so hot, have you taken antipyretics?"

"It's okay, I'll be fine after a night of sleep." Wang Zichen said in a low voice, his voice was hoarse and weak.

"Should I take some medicine?" Lan Xinhui was worried, found anti-fever medicine, poured him a cup of hot water, and fed it to his mouth.

The sick Wang Zichen managed to sit up, but the towel on his head fell off.He didn't care about the towel, but just looked at Lan Xinhui: "Your one, are you here?"

"Which one?" Lan Xinhui picked up the wet towel that fell on the bed, she thought for a while, and then remembered what she said this morning: "Oh, not yet."

"If you haven't come today, just take medicine!" Wang Zichen said.

"Okay." Lan Xinhui agreed, "Come on, drink some water first, and then take the medicine."

Wang Zichen took a sip of water with her hand, took the bottle cap containing the medicine, and poured the medicine into his mouth, then he took the water and drank it all in one go.

"Good job." Lan Xinhui incensed one on his hot forehead as if rewarding him.

"You should also take your medicine obediently!" He took the opportunity to persuade her, seeing that she still wanted to kiss her, he gently pushed her away: "Don't get so close to me, be careful of getting infected."

"Okay." Lan Xinhui was also worried that if she got sick, there would be no one to take care of Wang Zichen, she took a step back and kept a little distance from him, and said with a smile: "Go to sleep first, I'll go down and cook some porridge for you .”

After Lan Xinhui went downstairs, she asked Aunt Yang, the housekeeper, to cook porridge for Wang Zichen. She was worried about Wang Zichen, so she came upstairs again.

Seeing that Wang Zichen was sweating profusely, she hurriedly wiped his sweat off.Finally the sweating stopped, she wanted to ask him if he would like porridge, but he fell into a deep sleep again.

Lan Xinhui touched his forehead and found that his fever had subsided.She breathed a sigh of relief, and her hanging heart also relaxed a little.

Going downstairs, Aunt Yang happened to have dinner ready, but she didn't have any appetite for dinner.

Thinking that Wang Zichen was sick and she had to eat to be able to take care of her, she forced herself to eat half a bowl of rice.

After eating, Lan Xinhui took a bowl of porridge, put it in a small insulated lunch box, and brought it upstairs.

Seeing that Wang Zichen was still in a deep sleep, she touched his forehead and found that he didn't have a fever.

She sat by the bed, not knowing what to do, but just stared blankly at his sleeping face.

She didn't know how long she had been watching, but suddenly, there was a slight sound. Lan Xinhui followed the sound and looked over, only to see that the screen of Wang Zichen's cell phone on the bedside table lit up.

Lan Xinhui glanced at it unintentionally, and saw words like this flash across the screen:

Xiaoji: "I think it's better to tell grandma as soon as possible. She has also been sick these days. I don't know how long she can last..."

Lan Xinhui wanted to continue reading, but the screen quickly went dark and those words disappeared.

The information she saw was repeated in her mind, and she inexplicably felt that there was important information behind this information that she did not know.

For example, what to tell grandma?Was Wang Zichen not allowed to tell his grandma about that incident?

For some reason, Lan Xinhui felt inexplicably that this matter seemed to be related to her.