Volume One, Chapter Eleven: Lin Zhiwan Cares for the Ailing Jin Xing

Lin Zhiwan swiped the screen and answered the call.

An anxious voice came through the receiver.

“Madam, the young miss has broken out in so many rashes and is crying that it itches terribly. We can’t reach sir by phone either. What should we do?”

Lin Zhiwan felt dizzy and feverish herself, the heat burning on her skin—she was likely running a fever again.

She got up to find the thermometer, speaking into the phone as she went.

“It’s probably another allergic reaction. Has she eaten anything new recently or come into contact with any cats or dogs? There should be some antihistamines and anti-itch cream in the medicine box. Have her use those first, then call Dr. Wang over to take a look.”

From the other end, faint sounds of Fu Jinxing’s crying could still be heard.

The child had been allergic since birth.

Every time she encountered allergens, her whole body would break out in rashes—red and unbearably itchy.

Fu Jinxing’s skin was delicate; if those welts got scratched open, they would bleed and fester, easily leading to inflammation and fever.

Whenever this happened, Lin Zhiwan would stay up the entire night, fanning the sores gently to soothe the itch.

She had lost count of how many times she’d done this over the past five years.

Though she had never borne children herself, she was intimately familiar with the hardships of raising one.

The servant hesitated before saying, “Miss has been out with sir the past few days. We aren’t sure what she’s eaten or what she’s come into contact with. Madam, please come back. You know how every time the young miss falls ill, she only wants you. We’re at a loss! Sir can’t be reached, and the child is crying nonstop, she’s wearing herself out.”

The noise from the phone suggested Jinxing was trying to scratch at her rashes while the servants coaxed her.

Lin Zhiwan had just finished checking her own temperature—it was indeed another fever.

Hearing that heartbreaking wailing, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of tenderness; after all, this was the child she had raised with her own hands for five years.

Moreover, although she and Fu Yanzhou were nearing divorce, they had not yet finalized it legally, so she still bore responsibility and obligation toward Jinxing.

“Give Jinxing a medicated bath with the ointment first. I’m on my way.”

After hanging up, Lin Zhiwan took some fever medicine and set out for Dijing Court.

By the time she arrived, it was already eleven at night.

Just inside the door, she heard Jinxing’s voice from the second-floor nursery, crying that her body itched and hurt.

Her voice was hoarse from prolonged crying.

Lin Zhiwan entered the room to find several servants gathered around Jinxing, coaxing her to take medicine.

“I’ll take over,” Lin Zhiwan said as she stepped forward and took the medicine from the servants.

“Jinxing, let’s take the medicine first. Auntie will put on the ointment for you afterward, okay?”

At the sound of Lin Zhiwan’s voice, Fu Jinxing stopped crying, rubbing her eyes as she tried to see who it was.

When she realized it was really Lin Zhiwan, the little girl’s lips pouted, her sorrow deepening.

“Why did you only come now? I feel so awful... boohoo…”

She stretched out her arms, wanting to be held.

Lin Zhiwan knew this was Jinxing’s usual way of seeking comfort.

She stepped forward and picked the child up, soothing her in a gentle whisper.

“Don’t cry anymore, your tears have covered your face like a flower. Let’s take the medicine first, then Auntie will put on the ointment, alright?”

Jinxing clung tightly to Lin Zhiwan, burying her face against her neck and inhaling deeply—the scent she loved.

“Okay, but you have to promise to sleep with me tonight.”

She hadn’t slept beside Lin Zhiwan for a long time. These past days, she had been sleeping alone, which was no good at all.

Jinxing’s muffled voice stirred a tenderness in Lin Zhiwan.

“Alright, Auntie will sleep with you tonight. Let’s take the medicine first!”

A servant quickly handed her the medicine again.

Lin Zhiwan took it and then asked for Jinxing’s favorite snacks to help wash away the bitter taste afterward.

After some fussing, Jinxing finished her medicine and finally fell asleep in Lin Zhiwan’s arms.

The servants beside them sighed with relief.

“Madam is really attentive. Every time the young miss falls ill, only Madam can care for her properly. This child truly grows closest to whoever looks after her the most.”

Lin Zhiwan said nothing.

She slowly moved toward the bed, intending to lay Jinxing down.

After all, carrying a five-year-old was no small feat, especially with her own fever making her weak.

But just as she was about to rise, Jinxing seemed to sense it—her body shivered, and her hands flailed in the air, clearly uneasy.

Quickly, Lin Zhiwan grasped Jinxing’s hands and held her close.

Perhaps comforted by the embrace, Jinxing soon quieted, clutching Lin Zhiwan’s neck once more and drifting back into a deep sleep.

Watching the sleeping Fu Jinxing, Lin Zhiwan felt her heart soften completely.

So many nights before, she had stayed up just like this, keeping watch over Jinxing.

In fact, when Jinxing was very young, the child had been quite close to her.

Her first spoken word had even been “Mama.”

That moment had overwhelmed Lin Zhiwan with an unprecedented surge of emotion. From then on, she had vowed deep within to raise Jinxing as her own child.

But she had no idea when exactly things had changed—that Jinxing had suddenly grown distant, refusing to call her “Mama” ever again.

Lin Zhiwan lifted her hand and gently brushed the wisps of hair from Jinxing’s forehead, pressing a tender kiss to her smooth skin.

Perhaps fate had simply never meant for her and Jinxing to be close...

The servants had all left the room, leaving only the two of them in the quiet bedroom.

Jinxing’s sleep was restless all night, waking in tears and only able to calm down when she knew Lin Zhiwan was nearby.

Lin Zhiwan stayed awake, fearful that Jinxing might scratch her sores open.

In the early hours, Jinxing suddenly woke again and vomited everything in her stomach.

Unprepared, Lin Zhiwan was covered in it, but after purging, the child slept much more peacefully.

After cleaning Jinxing, Lin Zhiwan went to the bathroom for a shower.

There were pajamas left in Jinxing’s room that she could wear.

After putting the dirty clothes in the washing machine to dry, she returned to bed and soon fell asleep.

When Fu Yanzhou returned, it was still before dawn. Only after hearing from the servants did he learn that Jinxing was ill.

Without changing, he went straight to her bedroom.

Unaware that Lin Zhiwan was also there, he moved quietly to the bed and bent to feel the forehead of the sleeping person.

Why was it so hot?

Frowning, Fu Yanzhou switched on the nightlight and realized the one with the fever was Lin Zhiwan.

She had just woken as well, and in the dim light, their eyes met.

She was likely feverish and confused, staring blankly at the man before her.

Her eyes glistened with moisture, cheeks flushed pink, and the silk nightgown she wore revealed her exquisite curves, her ample bosom stirring the imagination.

Fu Yanzhou tugged at his tie, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he bent down and lifted her from the bed.