Married to a Villainous Minister - Chapter 112

Faced with Yu Jiao’s bold and shameless words, Yu Qizhe was a little taken aback. He raised an eyebrow and said, “You’re a young lady. You should speak more modestly.”

“I’m just not that kind of modest girl,” Yu Jiao replied. “Otherwise, if you catch a cold and get a fever, I won’t be taking care of you.”

Yu Qizhe chuckled softly at her words. His eyes, like blooming peach blossoms, shimmered with a mischievous charm as he leaned in close to Yu Jiao. “Craving a look at my body? You’re still young. In a few years, you won’t need excuses like this. I’ll let you see it all you want.”

His elegant features were just inches away, and his warm breath brushed against her skin. Yu Jiao’s cheeks turned slightly pink, this infuriating man really knew how to flirt. When he dropped his usual aloof demeanor, he was dangerously charming.

She extended a finger and pressed it against his chest, pushing him back slightly. Clearing her throat, she put on a serious face and said, “Talk properly. No teasing.”

Yu Qizhe laughed lowly and glanced at the delicate finger resting on his chest. Though her push had no real strength, it still somehow managed to disrupt his heartbeat. Feeling suddenly overheated, he assumed it was from being too close to the fire and shifted back a bit.

Yu Jiao took off her shoes and sat near the fire, warming her sock-clad feet. She preemptively declared, “No scolding me for being improper.”

Yu Qizhe smiled, tossing two more sticks into the fire. “There’s no outsider here. It’s fine.”

Yu Jiao let down her hair and gently combed through the wet strands with her fingers. The crackling of the fire mingled with the sound of raindrops outside, dripping from leaves and branches, a kind of natural white noise that brought a serene comfort.

She had been quiet for a while. When Yu Qizhe looked over, he realized she had fallen asleep against the stone wall. A faint smile touched his lips. He quietly took the half-dried outer robe from the side and gently draped it over her.

Since she had fallen asleep early, Yu Jiao woke up in the middle of the night. She looked out toward the mouth of the cave; it was still dark. A few droplets of water still trickled down from the trees. The fire had dwindled to glowing embers, and her clothes were still slightly damp.

Yu Qizhe was still asleep, leaning against the cave wall. Yu Jiao pulled the robe off herself and draped it over him. But as her hand brushed against his skin, she froze, his body was burning hot. She touched his forehead and realized with alarm that he had a high fever.

Quickly, she stood and reignited the fire with dry grass and wood. Then she grabbed the herb basket and stepped outside, using a makeshift torch for light.

The rain had stopped. The occasional dripping sound came from water falling off the leaves. Yu Jiao scoured the woods for herbs that could treat fevers and colds. She had come up the mountain in a rush the day before, with no medicine and no idea Yu Qizhe would follow her.

Protecting the small torch from the wind, she carefully searched for herbs. The light was too dim to see well, so she was nearly crawling along the ground. After hurriedly digging up a few fever-reducing herbs, she rushed back to the cave.

Yu Qizhe hadn’t woken. His brow was tightly furrowed in discomfort, his normally cool and refined face flushed from the fever. The flickering firelight cast shadows on his features, making him appear fragile and unwell, so unlike his usual proud self.

Yu Jiao stood silently for a moment, looking at the person who always seemed so untouchable now reduced to weakness and dependence.

She left the cave again, found a small rainwater pool formed among the rocks, and washed the herbs clean. She filled the iron pot with water and returned.

After boiling the herbs into a thick, bitter medicinal soup, she finally managed to wake Yu Qizhe, who was unconscious from the fever.

When he opened his eyes, he was still dazed. Yu Jiao’s hand was cool to the touch, and instinctively, he leaned into it, rubbing his face against her palm, as if seeking comfort.

“You have a fever,” Yu Jiao said softly. “I boiled medicine for you. Drink it, and you’ll feel better.”

Yu Qizhe’s brain was fogged with heat. Her voice seemed to help him pull together a shred of awareness. Hoarsely, he muttered, “Yu Jiao… I’m sick… I feel terrible… don’t talk… just let me sleep a bit…”

By the end, his words had blurred into incoherence. His burning forehead pressed against her neck as his arms wrapped around her arm.

Yu Jiao frowned slightly. His scorching breath on her skin made her tense. She tried to gently push him off. “Drink the medicine first, then sleep.”

But the man nestled against her gave no response. Worried the medicine would get cold, Yu Jiao didn’t hesitate. She wrestled herself free and gently laid him flat. Holding the iron pot, she tried to feed him the soup.

But he was unconscious, his lips tightly closed. She couldn’t get any of it in. Frowning, she pinched his cheeks until his mouth opened, then carefully poured the medicine in.

Afterward, she wiped the spilled liquid from his lips with a handkerchief.

The warm medicine seemed to help. His brow relaxed slightly. Yu Jiao went outside again, fetched another pot of cold water, and used it to dampen a cloth. She gently wiped his burning forehead.

It wasn’t long before the cloth warmed up again. She refreshed it with cool water and laid it on his forehead once more. Then she noticed his clothes were still damp. Perhaps because he was weak, the heat from the fire hadn’t dried them.

Without hesitation, Yu Jiao undid his outer robe and stripped off the wet clothing, leaving only his undergarments. She then wrapped him in the robe that had been dried by the fire.

She placed some dry grass beneath him for insulation and hung his wet clothes by the fire.

Finally, Yu Jiao sat back in front of the fire. She wasn’t tired, but her stomach was growling. She went outside again, fetched more water, boiled it, and drank until she felt halfway full.

On the straw bedding, Yu Qizhe shifted, tightening the robe around himself. Yu Jiao guessed it was the fever causing alternating chills and heat. She added more firewood and touched his forehead again. It wasn’t as hot as before, which eased her worry slightly.

When dawn came, sunlight streamed into the cave. Yu Qizhe’s eyelashes fluttered, and he woke up. As he tried to sit up, he realized Yu Jiao was asleep, resting against him.

Golden sunlight fell across her pale, delicate face, making her look peaceful and soft.

He vaguely remembered having a fever during the night, Yu Jiao calling him to drink medicine, and then falling unconscious again. The bitter taste still lingered in his mouth. He was a bit dazed, wondering how she’d even managed to find herbs for him in the middle of the night.