The Art of Teasing - Chapter 100
Chapter 100
Wen Zhengyu hadn't been to the studio for a week. Passing by on her way home, she decided to stop in and check on things. As soon as she arrived, she found her grandfather and her teacher gathered with a few old friends in the reception hall, chatting over tea. She went over to greet the elderly gentlemen with a smile, then invited them all upstairs to the VIP lounge.
Old Master Qi asked her, "Back from the Daoist temple? Did you get used to staying there?"
Seeing Old Master Qi rise, Wen Zhengyu hurried over to support him. "It was very nice. There's a Daoist Priest Yan at the temple who's skilled in mural painting. I spent the past few days painting alongside him." She helped her teacher up and ushered the old gentlemen toward the VIP lounge upstairs.
Her studio sat by the lake, so both the ground-floor reception hall and the second-floor VIP lounge offered views of the water—quite a pleasant setting. Add to that the regular acquisition of fine new artworks, the periodic rotation of paintings displayed in the ground-floor masterwork gallery for everyone's appreciation, and the presence of her grandfather and teacher, and these elderly gentlemen had turned her studio into a regular gathering spot. They often dropped by for tea and to appreciate the paintings.
She sat with the old gentlemen for a while, then made a round of the various departments. Finding nothing amiss, she saw the old gentlemen off as evening approached, then headed home with her grandfather.
Once in the car, Old Master Wen said, "I thought you'd be at your maternal grandmother's."
Wen Zhengyu replied, "I went over and sat for a bit, then came back." She told Old Master Wen how Ye Ling had fallen ill, and how she'd brought Ye Ling home and settled her into her own room.
Old Master Wen nodded lightly in acknowledgment and said nothing.
When Wen Zhengyu got home, she went straight to her room to check on Ye Ling. As soon as she stepped into the courtyard, she heard Ye Ling coughing and speaking in a hoarse voice—apparently on the phone, arranging work.
Sick to this degree and still not resting?
Wen Zhengyu entered the bedroom. Ye Ling had just hung up; she turned her head, and the moment she saw Wen Zhengyu, a smile spread across her face. Her expression was soft, carrying a hint of that weakness that comes with illness. Wen Zhengyu walked up to her and felt her forehead—still warm.
She had only come to check on her, but now that she was face to face with Ye Ling, she didn't quite know what to say. If she herself were sick, she would without question rest properly; nothing was more important than her health. Her maternal grandmother had told her, though, that when it came to one's own business, one had to be diligent and keep a close eye on things. Even when sick, as long as you weren't bedridden, you ought to at least keep watch. Ye Ling's business was far larger than hers, and with no one to lean on and having to rely solely on herself in everything, she naturally had to stay on top of everything.
She noticed Ye Ling had been sleeping in a knit top—she didn't even have a single warm set of sleepwear, and she hadn't brought a change of clothes either. Wen Zhengyu went to her own walk-in closet to find something for her.
Giving Ye Ling clothes she had worn herself was inappropriate. But among the unworn items, nothing seemed quite right either. She was strapped for cash now, sticking to a save-every-penny principle, and hadn't had many clothes made for herself. Busy every day, she had no inclination to go shopping either. This year's clothes had all been newly made for her by her second aunt, and most were for going out to work or social engagements—she hadn't had a single new set of house clothes made.
She found an autumn outfit in a more casual style and gave it to Ye Ling. "This set was tailored new this year. Wear it for now; don't catch more cold. I don't have any unworn sleepwear. After dinner this evening, I'll go out and buy some. What brands do you usually wear? Any requirements for size, color, or style?"
Ye Ling looked at the bespoke outfit Wen Zhengyu brought over and couldn't help laughing. Wen Zhengyu's clothes had always leaned toward the elegant and traditional, with an extremely distinctive personal style. If she were to wear them, she wouldn't know whether to say she was ruining the clothes or the clothes were ruining her. Smiling, she said, "Please don't let me ruin your clothes. Just find me any two outfits of old clothes you don't need anymore. Casual wear, please—no elegant lady styles, no skirts, no florals. Sleepwear or a robe are both fine, but no nightgowns."
Wen Zhengyu asked blankly, "Old clothes?"
Ye Ling's throat tickled; she coughed twice before continuing. "Old clothes. I don't mind at all." After she spoke, the corners of her mouth lifted again in irrepressible amusement, and she reiterated, "No skirts, no florals."
Wen Zhengyu shot Ye Ling a sidelong glance, thinking, What kind of quirk is it that a woman won't wear skirts? She nevertheless went back to the closet and fetched clothes according to Ye Ling's specifications.
The last time Wen Zhengyu had caught a cold, she'd moved into a hotel to avoid infecting Old Master Wen. Ye Ling naturally had to keep her distance too; dinner would have to be eaten in Wen Zhengyu's room. So she promptly switched into the robe. She didn't avoid Wen Zhengyu's presence while changing, directly changing her clothes in front of her.
It was a cream-white pure cotton knit robe, about eighty percent new, with only a little subtle embroidery at the cuffs and collar. After putting it on, Ye Ling even showed off to Wen Zhengyu, saying, "Our sizes seem to be about the same."
Wen Zhengyu thought to herself, What sizing does a robe even have? Aloud, she reminded Ye Ling, "Time for dinner."
Ye Ling said, "I'm worried about infecting your grandfather." She promptly shrank back onto the arhat bed and said to Wen Zhengyu, "I'll have to trouble you to bring dinner over later." Her throat was so uncomfortable that speaking triggered coughing fits she could hardly suppress.
Seeing Ye Ling coughing so severely, Wen Zhengyu poured her a glass of warm water, told her to lie down and rest, and then went out.
Ye Ling lay down and shortly fell asleep again.
When Wen Zhengyu woke her for dinner, Ye Ling saw an extra bottle of Fritillaria and Loquat Syrup on the table and knew Wen Zhengyu had bought it especially for her upon hearing her cough. After eating, she asked, "Now that I'm staying in your room, what if I pass the cold on to you?"
Wen Zhengyu replied very calmly, "Get an injection, take medicine, rest." She wasn't an old person. The elderly gentleman was advanced in age, with weaker resistance, and the real fear was that a cold could trigger other dangerous complications. She herself was young; the worst a cold could do was a shot, some medicine, and a few days of rest.
Ye Ling washed up after dinner and then burrowed into bed.
Another call came in, someone arranging a dinner engagement. Ye Ling declined with her hoarse voice. Then calls inquiring after her health started coming in, one of them from Zheng Dongsheng. Hearing she was ill, he insisted on coming to see her, which she refused.
After dinner, Ye Ling took her cold medicine, turned off her phone, and went to sleep.
Wen Zhengyu had no particular business that evening and returned to the room early, opening her laptop to go over documents and materials.
Ye Ling's cough was severe; she kept coughing even in her sleep, as if her throat was about to tear apart.
Wen Zhengyu cradled Ye Ling's head and fed her a spoonful of the loquat syrup. Seeing how flushed Ye Ling's face was, she touched her forehead and found her temperature had spiked again. She located a thermometer and took Ye Ling's temperature—it was up to 39 degrees. She called Dr. Shen. Dr. Shen asked detailed questions about Ye Ling's condition and advised her to use physical cooling methods.
She had just moved back; her courtyard wasn't equipped with a medicine kit yet. There had been one before, stocked with common medical supplies, but she didn't know where Old Master Wen had put it. At this hour, the old gentleman had already retired for the night. Elderly people sleep lightly, and once woken, they have trouble falling back asleep. Wen Zhengyu didn't want to disturb his sleep, so she found a towel, soaked it in cold water, and laid it on Ye Ling's forehead to cool her down.
Ye Ling had received intravenous fluids that morning and taken medicine before bed; this fever wasn't a major crisis.
When Wen Zhengyu's own bedtime came, she stopped changing the cold compress on Ye Ling's forehead.
That night, Ye Ling's coughing woke her. She got up again to check on her.
Ye Ling seemed extremely drowsy, barely able to keep her eyes open, yet still insisting she was all right. "Just sleep easy. Don't worry about me. I'm sweating now; once I break the fever, I'll be fine."
She was woken again by Ye Ling's coughing. When she went over, Ye Ling asked groggily, "Is the coughing waking you up?"
Seeing Ye Ling's dry lips, she gave her some water.
Ye Ling had clearly been parched; she drained an entire cupful in one go.
Wen Zhengyu thought Ye Ling was absolutely infuriating. Sick, thirsty to this degree, and she didn't even call for anyone.
After drinking the water, Ye Ling said to her again, "Go to sleep. Don't catch cold yourself. You don't need to look after me."
At that point, Wen Zhengyu genuinely did not want to look after her. She'd never seen anyone so recklessly obstinate, so unconcerned for her own health. She took Ye Ling's temperature again; seeing it had dropped to a little over 38 degrees, she stopped looking after Ye Ling and went back to bed with peace of mind.
Ye Ling had received Wen Zhengyu's attentive care and very much wanted to stay there and recuperate properly. But business couldn't be delayed—she had to go to the company no matter what.
When Wen Zhengyu saw Ye Ling changing into outdoor clothes, preparing to go out, she was astonished.
Ye Ling asked, "What's wrong?"
Wen Zhengyu asked, "Has your fever broken?"
Ye Ling said, "Much better. I don't feel as uncomfortable now."
Listening to Ye Ling's voice—not only hoarse but thick with nasal congestion—Wen Zhengyu knew these words were pure nonsense meant to fool a ghost. She had even arranged for Dr. Shen to come give Ye Ling IV fluids, only for the patient to try to bolt.
Seeing that Wen Zhengyu was displeased, Ye Ling explained, "I can't move my office to your home. There's some urgent business to take care of. I'll just go to the studio, have a video conference, and come right back. It won't take long."
Wen Zhengyu said, "I've arranged for Dr. Shen to come at ten-thirty to give you fluids."
Ye Ling replied, "All right. I'll definitely be back at ten-thirty sharp."
Wen Zhengyu's mood improved just a little. She said, "I probably won't be able to come back at noon. I'll have Aunt Sun send lunch to the room. You rest well."
Ye Ling obediently agreed.
Wen Zhengyu ate breakfast with Ye Ling in the room, then they went out together. Ye Ling knew Wen Zhengyu usually went to the studio first, so she hitched a ride with Wen Zhengyu to the studio again.
Wen Zhengyu had been away from the studio for a week. Upon arriving, she held meetings with each department to hear work reports. After finishing up, she went to see her maternal grandmother.
By the time she arrived at the Lian household, the elderly lady was out. She called her grandmother, who told her to arrange her own work. The old lady was very blunt: now that the catering company and the food company had been placed under her supervision, since she was taking that salary, if anything went wrong, she alone would be held responsible.
Wen Zhengyu was very clear about her own limited abilities. The companies had been operating smoothly for many years; she, as an ignorant outsider, really had nothing to meddle with. She was only going to look around more, learn more, understand the situation better, and incidentally serve as a kind of oversight.
After attending to work matters, she returned home in the evening, had dinner with the old gentleman, then presided over Ye Ling—the invalid—having her own dinner.
Ye Ling had taken advantage of her absence that afternoon to dash home and fetch several changes of clothes.
That evening, Wen Zhengyu sat at the round table, facing her computer and looking through reports.
Ye Ling had once again moved the small table onto the arhat bed. Wrapped in a blanket, she curled up on it, wearing a mask and watching a movie.
Wen Zhengyu asked her, "You're not busy?"
Ye Ling said, "Recuperating. I've turned down all the social dinners. I'm quite free right now."
Wen Zhengyu then picked up her laptop and moved over to the arhat bed. Whenever she encountered something she didn't understand, she asked Ye Ling for guidance.
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