Xia Yiwan had the key to Yanxi's room; she opened the door and walked in.
The room was eerily silent, with only the sound of the howling wind and pouring rain from outside as the windows were not soundproof.
Although Xia Yiwan had an umbrella, her body was still drenched.
Not minding the chill in her own body, she made her way to the bedroom door.
She gently turned the doorknob and peeked inside.
No lights were on in the room, but the dim yellow light from the corridor spilled in, illuminating the slender figure hunched over in bed.
The man seemed to be in discomfort, curled up and letting out a series of hoarse moans.
Xia Yiwan hurried over.
She lightly tapped on the headboard.
Lately, she had been pretending to be mute in front of him; their communication was through a couple of taps on objects.
The man showed no reaction.
Xia Yiwan pulled back the quilt and touched his forehead.
Burning hot.
He had a fever.
