GHML - Chapter 7.2: Is There Something Wrong With His Brain? (2)
The next day.
Shang Jing woke up early in the morning. When he got out of his room, He Jiang was in the midst of putting on his shoes, ready to leave the house with a large suitcase.
“The house key is in the shoe cabinet.” He Jiang bent down to place the indoor shoes into the cabinet. “I have some filming scheduled and will be back in half a month, earliest.”
After which, he walked towards the car garage with his suitcase behind and hopped into one of the cars.
Shang Jing subconsciously followed behind him, unable to process what was happening.
He Jiang looked at Shang Jing and was about to say something but in the end, the words that came out of his mouth were, “Be good and pick up some cooking skills.”
At the very least, learn how to take care of yourself.
As he pulled out of the car garage, he checked Shang Jing out in the rearview mirror. Shang Jing was still standing there in a daze in his cotton pajamas.
He recounted the items in his mental list to make sure he had not missed anything out… There was a chef, a cleaner and Xiao Bei would be taking stock and replenishing Shang Jing’s daily necessities every alternate day.
Everything was in place.
He Jiang retracted his gaze and returned his attention to the road.
I suppose Shang Jing would have recovered and left by the time half a month was up.
Shang Jing took another two steps forward before the fact He Jiang had left settled in his mind.
He suddenly felt lonely.
Probably because he had still not added He Jiang on WeChat and could not send him a message to check on his status every half hour like the pain in the ass he was.
With He Jiang gone, the villa suddenly seemed exceptionally empty. Except for the housekeeper, there was barely any sign of life throughout the day.
In the morning, except for He Jiang’s bedroom which was locked, Shang Jing had familiarized himself with every area in the house. That included how many bottles of alcohol He Jiang had kept in the underground cellar and how many books he had kept in his study.
All his basic needs had been met. But the problem now was that he still did not have any actual cash in hand. Shang Jing had even considered selling off some of He Jiang’s alcohol to earn some pocket money.
He Jiang must really thank the gods that he was an upright person. If not for his injury, he might have drank all of his prized collection before he got back. But stealing and selling them was another matter altogether.
Shang Jing was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the study room. In his hands were a copy of the movie script He Jiang had acted in previously. However, a short while of reading had left him feeling dizzy. He immediately jogged back to his room to take a nap.
In the afternoon, the helper had dropped by to make lunch for him to which he only got up at 2PM to have. He consecutively sneezed three times while doing so.
Shang Jing felt his forehead.
It seems to be a little on the warm side.
By now, he was already familiar with where the emergency medical box in the house was. He dragged himself to the television console cabinet in the living room to look for a thermometer.
He was down with flu and fever.
Shang Jing swallowed guiltily. This definitely had something to do with him standing in the rain and wearing shorts.
Being a pain in the ass is so difficult. Retribution came so quickly.
If he had searched the internet earlier and applied its essence, he would not have adopted the self-sacrificial methods as he did in the past few days.
Shang Jing tried to recall, what did it say in his game plan about falling ill?
No medication, no injections and get the other party to take a day off just to take care of him?
Forget it, he should just go get himself cured at the hospital.
Moreover, this illness was a consequence of his own actions. There was no way he could admit that to He Jiang. What if next time he used it against him in the future whenever he was being difficult? How awkward would that be?
There was a highly acclaimed clinic in the neighborhood.
As the doctor checked Shang Jing’s wound for infection, he asked, “Are you allergic to penicillin?”
Shang Jing: “...”
He had no idea. At that moment, he looked especially weak, helpless and pitiful.
He replied, “I’ll ask around.”
The doctor’s eyebrows creased together, not understanding his purpose of doing so.
Shang Jing subtly avoided the doctor's concerned eyes and sent a text message to He Jiang.
【Do you know what I’m allergic to?】
After approximately six minutes later, He Jiang replied: 【I don’t know.】
What a cold reply. He knew he could not count on He Jiang. Imagining He Jiang’s expression while he typed that message, Shang Jing puffed up his cheeks. In an even colder tone, he replied:【I’m allergic to you.】
Find the original at *hosted* novel.
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