After The Beautiful Drama Queen’s Marriage To The Wealthy Tycoon - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Heartache

Perhaps it was the cooling weather combined with recent exhaustion, or the lingering grief over the loss of the dog Ping’an, but as soon as Jiang He returned home, he collapsed with a high fever. Qi Hanchuan immediately called the family doctor to set up an IV drip.

Since their marriage, Jiang He had always been a burst of endless energy—vibrant, spirited, and constantly stirring up trouble. This was the first time Qi Hanchuan had seen him lying limply on the bed, drained of all vitality.

Qi Hanchuan stood by the bed until the doctor left, then sat down. He hesitated for a moment before taking Jiang He’s hand. Because of the fever, Jiang He’s skin was scorching hot, like a small furnace. The fever-reducing injection hadn’t kicked in yet, so Qi Hanchuan decided to wait until the temperature broke before going to wash up.

After nearly half an hour, the fever finally began to recede. Jiang He mumbled in his sleep, asking for water. Qi Hanchuan quickly helped him up, letting the boy lean against his chest as he carefully hydrated him.

Once he finished drinking, Jiang He opened his eyes, which were clouded with a hazy mist. “I feel terrible,” he whispered.

“You have a fever. You’ll feel better now that the medicine is in your system.” Qi Hanchuan tried to lay him back down, but the young master refused to let go, so Qi Hanchuan remained on the edge of the bed, holding him.

After wiping the sweat from Jiang He’s forehead, Qi Hanchuan asked softly, “Do you want to eat something?” The call from the pet hospital had been sudden, and Jiang He had left the house without dinner.

Jiang He shook his head and buried his face in Qi Hanchuan’s chest, as if the man’s voice was too loud for his aching head. Qi Hanchuan fell silent, holding him quietly. When the IV bag was empty, he used the landline to call the doctor back up to remove the needle.

Jiang He drifted in and out of sleep while Qi Hanchuan held him. He had sweated so much that his pajamas were damp and uncomfortable; he began fussing about wanting a bath. The doctor had warned against catching another chill, so Qi Hanchuan spent a long time negotiating, eventually convincing him to let him do a sponge bath tonight and wait until tomorrow for a real shower.

After he was cleaned up, Jiang He was fully awake. He stared at Qi Hanchuan with large, innocent eyes and said, “I’m hungry.”

“What would you like to eat?” Qi Hanchuan asked immediately.

Jiang He stared at the ceiling for a moment and rasped, “Osmanthus cake from Zhiyuizhai in the North of the city.”

Qi Hanchuan checked the time, his brow furrowing slightly. “Zhiyuyizhai is already closed at this hour. Can I have the kitchen make some for you?”

Being sick made Jiang He’s mood even more volatile. He frowned impatiently. “I want it from Zhiyuizhai. Can’t you just call them and make them reopen?”

Seeing the tears beginning to well up in his eyes, Qi Hanchuan quickly softened. “Don’t be upset. I’ll call them to reopen. What else do you want besides the osmanthus cake?”

Jiang He was still grieving for Ping’an. Usually, he could suppress his emotions, but being physically ill made him lose all control. Qi Hanchuan understood this and sighed inwardly. Perhaps this is better, he thought. Letting it out is better than letting it fester inside.

Jiang He felt incredibly wronged. His voice cracked as he sobbed, “I only want the osmanthus cake. And you have to go buy it yourself. You can’t send anyone else.”

Qi Hanchuan gently wiped the tears from the corners of Jiang He’s eyes, his own gaze filled with heartache. “Alright. I’ll go buy it myself. Try to sleep for a bit; I’ll be back soon.”

Jiang He started acting up again. “I want to go with you.”

Qi Hanchuan didn’t get angry. He spoke to him like one would coax a child. “You just broke your fever; you can’t be out in the wind. I’ll be back very quickly. Be good and wait for me at home.”

He knew Jiang He’s health wasn’t robust, and since the wedding, he had been strict about the boy’s diet and schedule. But this had come on so suddenly—the exhaustion of the past few days, a slight cough, and then the emotional blow of the dog’s death had completely crushed him.

Qi Hanchuan didn’t know why his heart ached so much. He just hated seeing Jiang He so listless. He much preferred the version of Jiang He who was loud, demanding, and full of life.

Jiang He’s lip trembled, and his tears gathered into large drops that rolled down his cheeks. “I don’t want to stay here alone,” he choked out. He simply didn’t want to be separated from Qi Hanchuan.

Looking at the pitiful sight, Qi Hanchuan couldn’t find the heart to leave him behind. He opened the wardrobe, found a pair of thick pajamas for Jiang He, and personally helped him put on socks and shoes. Finally, he wrapped him in a thick blanket and carried him out.

It was early autumn in Sea City, and the rain had been relentless all day. It had stopped for a few hours, but now it was pouring again. Seeing him carrying Jiang He toward the door, the butler followed anxiously with an umbrella. “Sir, Young Master Jiang is sick! Where are you going so late at night?”

Qi Hanchuan shielded Jiang He from the wind, placing him carefully into the car before answering, “To get him some pastries.”

The butler looked at the frail Jiang He and couldn’t help but mutter, “You could just send someone else. It’s late and raining; what if he catches another chill…”

Qi Hanchuan closed the car door and rolled down the window slightly. “Have the kitchen prepare some porridge. We’ll be back soon.”

On the way to the North of the city, the roads were empty. Zhiyuizhai was an asset under the Qin family. Qi Hanchuan had called Old Master Qin directly, scaring the man into thinking he had somehow offended the Qi Group. Upon learning the request was for pastries, the Old Master ordered the current head of the Qin family to rush to the shop and personally oversee a fresh batch of osmanthus cakes.

When they arrived, Jiang He woke up. He wanted to go in, but Qi Hanchuan wouldn’t allow it in the heavy rain. He left Jiang He with the driver and stepped out into the downpour.

Qin Xulin met him at the door, looking terrified but polite. “President Qi, the cakes you requested are fresh out of the oven. We’ve included several other flavors for you to try as well.”

Qi Hanchuan had walked quickly; his coat was damp, but he still looked every bit the powerful, noble figure. He nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

“It’s an honor for Zhiyuizhai,” Qin Xulin said respectfully. “You could have just called and had us deliver it; you didn’t need to come yourself.”

Qi Hanchuan replied flatly, “He’s quite fussy while sick. He insisted I buy them personally.”

Qin Xulin froze for a second, then realized who he was talking about. He added perceptively, “Sick people are fragile and emotional. My spouse is the same way.”

Qi Hanchuan didn’t linger. He took the pastries and left, worried that Jiang He would get upset if he waited too long. He climbed back into the car, tossed his wet coat into the back, and turned to Jiang He.

Jiang He opened his eyes, caught a whiff of the sweet scent of the pastries, and wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to eat them anymore,” he said weakly. He had really wanted them earlier, but now his appetite was completely gone. He wasn’t trying to be difficult on purpose; he just felt nauseous.

Qi Hanchuan didn’t get angry. He set the cakes aside, changed into a dry shirt, and saw Jiang He reaching out for a hug. He pulled the boy onto his lap. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to eat them now, maybe you will when we get home.”

Jiang He felt a wave of guilt. Qi Hanchuan had been so gentle and patient all night. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Qi Hanchuan smiled and stroked his face. “No need to apologize. It’s not a big deal.”

Back at home, Qi Hanchuan carried him upstairs and showered quickly before bringing up the porridge. Jiang He still had no appetite. He took one bite of a cake and shook his head.

Qi Hanchuan sat by the bed with the porridge bowl, coaxing him like a toddler. “Just two bites. You need food in your stomach before you can take your medicine.”

“I don’t want it,” Jiang He frowned.

Qi Hanchuan resorted to a bribe. “Take two bites and your medicine, and I’ll give you the gifts I bought.” He felt a bit ridiculous “coaxing” like this, but it was for Jiang He’s health.

Jiang He eventually relented and swallowed a few spoonfuls. He took his medicine without much fuss, wanting only to feel better so he could sleep. Qi Hanchuan praised him, gave him some water to rinse his mouth, and helped him lie down.

“The gifts,” Jiang He murmured, his eyelids drooping.

“I’ll go get them.”

Qi Hanchuan tucked him in and went to his own room. He looked at the drawer containing the ring box and the ceramic doll he had made in Jiang He’s likeness. After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up both and headed back to Jiang He’s room.