"Roses, girls love roses the most. Give her a big bouquet of roses and say a few nice words, and even the biggest anger will fade away." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novelꞁire.net Yan Song pressed his lips together, "Then, roses it is." The florist shook her head, "But we’re out of stock right now. You’ll have to wait until seven in the morning. See..." Yan Song frowned, "I’ll be here at seven sharp in the morning." With that, he turned and left. "Okay, I’ll call the delivery person and ask them to come as early as possible." Yan Song drove aimlessly around the streets before finally stopping in front of Zelin Apartment, leaning on the steering wheel, and heaving a deep sigh. Is she crying right now? Just the thought of her secretly weeping was unbearably heartbreaking. After a night of calm in the car, tossing and turning with thoughts, he didn’t hesitate to choose tolerating Miaomiao over losing her. Unwittingly, his love for her had seeped into his marrow, so deep that he was unwilling to confront the existence of another man in her heart above himself. He gave a bitter smile, laying his head on the steering wheel and falling into a dazed sleep. When he awoke around six, the sky was already bright, with the deep blue of dawn still lingering. Youngsters were exercising by the road, and elderly people held vegetable baskets going shopping. The rising sun began to dispel the darkness and chill of the night. Yan Song shook his groggy head and drove towards the flower shop. Seeing Yan Song, the florist immediately smiled and handed him a beautifully wrapped big bouquet of roses. "Ninety-nine roses. I hope your girlfriend will calm down." Yan Song paid and took the flowers, then turned and walked away. "I wish you two eternal love and a hundred years of happiness!" the florist called after him. Yan Song waved his hand, "Thank you." He placed the flowers on the passenger seat, glanced at them with a slight curl of his lips, and then started the car and drove off. Yun Miao got up feeling refreshed, walked out of the bedroom, and saw Yun Ya curled up into a ball on the living room sofa, without anything covering him, hunched over like a little shrimp. Yun Miao walked over and saw Yun Ya with his eyes tightly closed, his face flushed, obviously unwell. Startled, he knelt down and shook Yun Ya’s body, calling out "ah ah" without being able to make a sound. Yun Ya opened his eyes groggily and saw Miaomiao’s worried, anxious expression. He weakly curved his lips. "Miaomiao, I’m okay, get me a cup of hot tea," he said, his voice sounding feeble. Having fallen asleep on the sofa last night and catching a chill, Yun Ya felt helpless about his fragile health. Miaomiao immediately got up to pour water, blowing on the hot tea until his hands turned red, but he wouldn’t let go. Yun Ya struggled to sit up, scolding, "Fool, why don’t you let go when it’s so hot?" Miaomiao placed the teacup on the table. Yun Ya grabbed his hand, noticing the reddened soft fingers. He shouldn’t have let Miaomiao do these things. Miaomiao pursed his lips and withdrew his hand, gesturing quickly. [It doesn’t hurt at all. Yaya, drink quickly.] With him acting so foolish, how could she possibly feel at ease leaving him alone? Miaomiao thought he had angered Yun Ya again and hung his head in silence. Yun Ya sighed and raised his hand to touch Miaomiao’s head, soothing his emotions. After drinking hot water, Yun Ya lay back on the big bed in the bedroom and called Ji Die, asking her to come over and take care of Miaomiao temporarily. After hanging up the phone, he fell into a deep sleep. Miaomiao sat by the bedside, watching over Yun Ya. Yan Song entered the house, sensing the unusual quietness, and frowned. He placed the flowers in the corner by the door and then walked toward the bedroom, where he saw Yun Ya lying on the bed in a deep sleep. His heartbeat nearly stopped in that moment. He quickly walked over and touched Yun Ya’s forehead, which was frighteningly hot. Miaomiao saw him and gestured something urgently, but unfortunately, Yan Song couldn’t understand at all. It seemed he had to make time to learn sign language. He picked up Yun Ya to take her to the hospital, but then he remembered something she said before; she’d never gone to the hospital for a fever. Torn between worry and helplessness, he placed her back on the bed and fetched an ice pack from the fridge, wrapping it in a towel and placing it on her forehead. Yun Ya jolted at the cold sensation, her hands flailing without direction. Yan Song grasped her hands, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, "Yun Ya, I’m sorry..." I shouldn’t have been upset last night. Your health is already poor, and I’ve made you sick with anger. I’m such a jerk. Miaomiao pulled Yan Song away, not liking him so close to Yaya. Yan Song didn’t argue and turned to prepare breakfast in the kitchen.