On Her Wedding Night, She Transmigrated To The Aftermath Of Her Divorce - Chapter 12

An aristocratic manor with centuries of history stands in County Clare, nestled near the Cliffs of Moher. On the day they arrived, Yu Yan headed for the coast in high spirits. The cliffs, rising over two hundred meters, face the wild Atlantic head-on. The sight of that boundless horizon felt like standing at the edge of the world, stunning and profound.

The howling sea breeze numbed her face, but it made her spirit feel weightless. Here, there was the sea, the wilderness, and freedom. The landscape possessed a colossal, natural vitality that made one want to spend a lifetime there, being both turbulent and serene.

Yu Yan lingered for half a day, returning to the manor only when it was time for dinner.

Whether it was a naturally weak constitution, energy depleted by overexcitement, or simply the struggle of adjusting to a new climate, Yu Yan developed a high fever that very night.

She had felt the fatigue setting in on the way back. After forcing herself through a shower, her strength completely evaporated. Her breath and cheeks burned; her head spun. She collapsed onto the bed, half-dead to the world, leaving her hair soaking wet because she simply couldn’t muster the strength to get back up.

She was dimly aware that something was wrong, but she would rather not tell Yu Lan. She knew she would only be lectured. Sinking into a groggy stupor, Yu Yan drifted off to sleep before she could even touch the hairdryer.

It was barely nine o’clock, nowhere near Yu Yan’s usual bedtime. With the wedding fast approaching, there were details to discuss, so Fu Yunqing appeared at her door carrying a box of pudding.

It was the same pudding Yu Yan had seen Fu Yunqing eating during breakfast that morning.

Seeing her eat, Yu Yan had acted spoiled, saying she wanted a taste too. Fu Yunqing offered to have the server bring another portion, but Yu Yan refused, insisting she only wanted a bite of what “Sister Fu” was having.

Her intent had been so clear, so nakedly transparent. She had looked at Fu Yunqing with a feigned innocence that practically demanded to be hand-fed.

She didn’t mind that Fu Yunqing had already used the spoon. In fact, if Fu Yunqing had reached for a clean one out of politeness, Yu Yan surely would have put on a heartbroken face.

With a hint of helpless indulgence, Fu Yunqing had scooped a small bite, steadying her sleeve as she fed her.

Yu Yan had leaned in, her eyes locked onto Fu Yunqing’s, her reflection enlarging in the older woman’s pupils. Yu Yan loved to laugh. She had dimples, one deep, one faint. When her eyes crinkled in a smile, her laughter lines became prominent, nearly hiding her eyes altogether, making her look like a bright, youthful crescent moon.

She had swallowed the pudding and smiled even wider, declaring it delicious.

Carrying these thoughts, Fu Yunqing pressed the doorbell. There was no answer. Knowing Yu Yan had returned, she pulled out her phone and sent a message: [Are you in your room?]

After waiting a while with no reply, she began to wonder where the girl could be. It was too early for sleep. Spotting a manor servant passing by, Fu Yunqing asked after her, only to be told that Miss Yu hadn’t left her room since returning.

A sudden, inexplicable unease took hold. Fu Yunqing dialed her number.

The ringing phone jolted Yu Yan from her sleep. Upon waking, the discomfort was far more intense than before; her eyes felt swollen, her head throbbed, and she was caught in a cycle of chills and hot flashes. She answered the call in a daze.

“Yan-yan?” Fu Yunqing’s voice came through.

“Mm… I just fell asleep,” she murmured, her voice raspy and weak.

Fu Yunqing immediately sensed something was wrong. “Are you unwell?”

“Mm…”

The door wasn’t locked. Fu Yunqing turned the handle and entered. Yu Yan was struggling to sit up; she was in her nightgown, her long hair damp, her eyes red and puffy, and her cheeks flushed with fever.

Fu Yunqing hurried over, setting the pudding aside. She cupped the back of Yu Yan’s head with one hand and checked her forehead with the other. She frowned—the girl was burning up.

“You have a fever.” Fu Yunqing noticed the dampness. “Why didn’t you dry your hair?”

Yu Yan remained silent, lacking the energy to respond. She only knew that the touch of Fu Yunqing’s hand on her forehead felt wonderful. Instinctively, she wanted to nuzzle into the palm; feeling lightheaded, she naturally leaned her weight against the woman.

Feeling her lean in, Fu Yunqing sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the girl into her arms, letting her rest against her chest.

“Does it hurt?” Fu Yunqing looked down, her eyes filled with worry.

As she bowed her head, her chin brushed against the damp crown of Yu Yan’s head. She didn’t care that her own clothes were getting wet; she only saw Yu Yan huddled weakly in her embrace.

“It hurts a little…”

How did she get sick so easily? She’s so fragile.

Fu Yunqing called for a doctor. Releasing her gently, she said, “I’ll go get the hairdryer and help you with your hair.”

Yu Yan’s head was swimming; she couldn’t even keep herself upright. By the time Fu Yunqing returned, the girl had slumped back onto the pillows. Fu Yunqing eased her by the shoulders, half-coaxing and half-lifting her so her head hung slightly over the edge of the bed, allowing her long hair to drape down. Fu Yunqing sat beside her, leaning over to dry the tresses.

“You should have told me if you felt sick. Sleeping with wet hair only makes it worse.”

“In the future, you must dry your hair after washing it. Even if you don’t get a fever, it’s bad for you. It causes headaches, damages the scalp, and leads to hair loss.”

The roar of the hairdryer muffled most of Fu Yunqing’s voice, yet Yu Yan heard every word clearly.

Fu Yunqing clearly knew what young women cared about. Her emphasis on hair loss made Yu Yan want to laugh, but she also felt a secret prickle of joy. That joy came from Fu Yunqing’s mothering, nagging tone. Even as sick as she was, her only thought was: Fu Yunqing cares so much about me.

She didn’t laugh, nor did she answer. She simply maintained a pained expression and allowed herself to be tended to with a clear conscience. By the time the doctor arrived, her hair was mostly dry.

Fu Yunqing handed Yu Yan over to the Irish doctor. A quick check of her temperature confirmed it: 38.5°C, a high fever. The doctor concluded it was likely a chill from the wind, nothing critical, but she needed to break the fever, take medicine, drink plenty of fluids, and rest.

Despite the reassurance, Yu Yan knew she was in for a miserable time. She hated fevers; they always meant a stuffed nose, headaches, and a sore throat that lingered for a week. It had been that way since she was a child.

It was frustrating. Why did it have to happen now?

The doctor prescribed fever reducers. Yu Lan, having heard the news, rushed over to find Yu Yan tucked under the covers with a cooling patch Fu Yunqing had applied to her forehead.

Yu Lan’s brow furrowed instantly. “How did you let yourself get like this?”

Restrained by Fu Yunqing’s presence, Yu Lan suppressed her temper. She sat by the bed, looking at her sickly daughter with a mixture of frustration and pity. “I told you not to go out and run wild, but you never listen,” she whispered. “You’ve never listened since you were little. Do you think I give you advice just to harm you?”

“The wedding is almost here, and you’re in this state. Can’t you act with a bit more maturity?”

“…” Yu Yan had expected the lecture. She closed her eyes and played dead.

“The climate here is different from Yun City; the temperature drops sharply at night. It’s easy to catch a chill if you aren’t careful,” Fu Yunqing said softly, stepping in to comfort Yu Lan. “It’s natural for someone her age to want to explore. It’s my responsibility too; I didn’t look after her well enough.”

With Fu Yunqing speaking up for her, Yu Lan’s tone softened. “I just don’t want her to cause delays. She has a weak constitution; a fever won’t go away in a day or two.”

Yu Lan reached out for the medicine and water in Fu Yunqing’s hands. “Give them to me. She can manage on her own.”

Even if they had signed the papers, they both knew this was a business marriage. Despite the polite veneer, Yu Lan didn’t want to trouble Fu Yunqing. However, Fu Yunqing shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

Yu Lan blinked, surprised, but stepped aside without a fight.

“Take your medicine before you sleep.”

Yu Yan felt someone lean over her. Despite her congested nose, she caught the scent of the familiar, pleasant fragrance she had grown used to lately. The woman’s tenderness stood in sharp, heartbreaking contrast to Yu Lan’s coldness. Yu Yan stopped playing dead. She opened her watery, bloodshot eyes and looked at Fu Yunqing. She was perfectly compliant, sitting up, opening her mouth, and swallowing the pills with a sip of water.

Even after the medicine was gone and she lay back down, she refused to close her eyes. She stared at Fu Yunqing with a tearful, pleading gaze, her eyes never wavering, looking like a lost soul seeking help.

Watching her, Fu Yunqing felt a knot of worry tighten in her chest, but alongside it, a subtle, strange sensation began to bloom.

She realized that Yu Yan was deeply dependent on her.

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