After the delicate and soft-spoken wife gave up, the aloof and powerful minister embraced her and sh

Chapter 240 Intimate Posture

Sleeping was just an excuse to get rid of Old Qian and the imperial physician; in fact, Wen Jiayue was not sleepy at all.

She was tormented by alternating headaches and hunger, and since she had just woken up, she was extremely alert.

Seeing her looking depressed, Shen Fuhan asked, "Why aren't you asleep?"

"My head still hurts," Wen Jiayue rubbed her temples. "I just feel uncomfortable."

Shen Fuhan didn't say anything, but moved closer to her and started massaging her.

His strength was just right, and his technique was extremely professional; Wen Jiayue felt less pain.

But then he suddenly withdrew his hand.

Wen Jiayue looked at him, puzzled.

“This is inconvenient,” Shen Fuhan said. “Sit up.”

Wen Jiayue sat up, intending to lean against the soft pillows, but Shen Fuhan pulled her forward, and then his hot chest pressed against her back.

Wen Jiayue was stunned for a moment. This posture... was a bit too intimate.

He pulled her into his arms, his strong arms encircling hers, making her unable to move.

His breathing was deep and heavy, sometimes close to my ear, sometimes landing on the back of my neck, making me feel a little itchy.

The air was filled with the scent of books and ink, which imbued her with his fragrance.

Wen Jiayue felt a little uncomfortable, but his massage technique was very comfortable and relieved her headache, so she kept quiet.

But if we don't say anything, it seems a bit strange; it's too quiet.

Wen Jiayue cleared her throat and asked, "Isn't Zhaozhao sleeping with us tonight?"

“Zhaozhao is at Chang Le Yuan,” Shen Fuhan explained. “You can bring her back after you recover.”

Wen Jiayue frowned and asked, "Why send it to Third Sister?"

She only had a fever, and she felt almost better, except for a slight headache.

Shen Fuhan remained silent for a moment before speaking: "Zhaozhao is still young. If she recovers from her illness, it will be a loss."

What he said made sense, and Wen Jiayue did not refute it.

But Zhao Zhao's first birthday is in two days, she can't possibly not see Zhao Zhao, can she?

Thinking of this, Wen Jiayue suggested indirectly, "My lord, I think my illness will be cured in a couple of days, which happens to be Zhaozhao's birthday. Shall we go to the temple to fulfill our vow as originally planned?"

“I won’t go,” Shen Fuhan said. “If you feel better, we can go boating on the lake.”

He spoke without hesitation, clearly indicating that he had thought it through long ago.

Wen Jiayue breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed she had successfully faked her illness.

Tuk-tuk-tuk——

Ruyi's voice came from outside the door: "My lord, my lady, the pear soup is ready. Shall we bring it in now?"

Shen Fuhan asked, "Would you like some?"

Wen Jiayue nodded reservedly, then reluctantly said, "Then I'll have a little."

Actually, she was starving, and she wasn't about to miss the chance to eat something openly.

Ruyi entered and, following the Marquis's instructions, placed the pear soup on the small round table before leaving.

Shen Fuhan got off the bed and picked up the pear soup.

Wen Jiayue was about to take it, but he didn't hand it to her. Instead, he picked up the spoon, as if he wanted to feed her himself.

Wen Jiayue was stunned for a moment before a spoonful of pear soup was fed to her.

She could only drink the spoonful, saying, "I can drink it myself."

"You just need to rest well," Shen Fuhan said, lowering his eyes to scoop up the pear soup. "I'll take care of everything else."

Wen Jiayue glanced suspiciously out the window, somewhat unable to recall which side the sun was rising from today.

"What are you looking at?" Shen Fuhan urged. "Drink first."

As Wen Jiayue sipped her soup, she looked at him and asked, almost as if possessed, "If I were to fall seriously ill one day, would you take care of me like this, Lord Marquis?"

Shen Fuhan's heart skipped a beat, and his hand trembled, almost spilling the pear soup on the bed.

He quickly regained his composure and asked calmly, "Why do you suddenly ask that?"

Wen Jiayue realized that her question was a bit abrupt, so she shook her head and said, "It's nothing."

She suddenly remembered what had happened in her past life when she was seriously ill—if Shen Fuhan hadn't left the capital…

Sigh, what's the use of thinking about these things? If he were still in Chang'an, Li Zhilan wouldn't have dared to poison her.

Shen Fuhan persisted, asking, "Did you have a premonition of something?"

Wen Jiayue was taken aback: "What?"

Shen Fuhan did not answer, but said instead, "I will heal you."

To the best of my ability, to give my all.

After drinking most of a bowl of pear soup, Wen Jiayue was completely full.

However, fearing that Shen Fuhan might notice something, she added, "I was a little worried that my throat would hurt when I woke up tomorrow, so even though I couldn't drink any more, I still drank a lot."

Shen Fuhan placed the white porcelain bowl on the small round table, his brows furrowing slightly. He still thought her illness was almost cured.

Back on the bed, he continued to massage her.

Worried that there might be lumps on her head, Shen Fuhan made a point of touching her entire head.

His movements were so gentle that Wen Jiayue became drowsy and her body slid down uncontrollably, falling backward onto his lap.

Caught off guard, Shen Fuhan let out a muffled groan, his breathing becoming rapid for a moment.

The drowsy feeling was immediately jolted awake, and Wen Jiayue hurriedly got up.

"I did not do it on purpose."

“It’s alright,” Shen Fuhan adjusted his posture, “Let’s continue.”

Wen Jiayue stared calmly ahead, but her face was burning with rage.

She silently reminded herself that she couldn't let her mind wander anymore!

After calming down for a moment, she roused herself and brought up a topic.

"Who taught you your massage techniques, Lord Marquis?"

"My father."

Wen Jiayue opened her mouth, but the topic seemed inappropriate.

Although she had never met her in-laws, they were Shen Fuhan's deceased parents, and mentioning them suddenly must have made him feel sad.

Just as they were wondering what to do, Shen Fuhan spoke up again.

“My mother suffered from headaches, and my father learned a method to alleviate it from a doctor, which he later taught to me.”

His tone was no different from usual, so Wen Jiayue stopped worrying about it.

She asked, "Why would your father-in-law teach you?"

This title made Shen Fuhan raise an eyebrow slightly.

“My father said that if he ever lost his hand, he wouldn’t be able to help my mother anymore, so he passed the skill on to me.”

Shen Fuhan paused for a moment before continuing.

"But less than six months later, he and his mother both died on the battlefield."

His tone was as calm as if he were telling the story of someone unrelated, but Wen Jiayue felt a pang of sorrow in her heart.

Her parents-in-law were heroes who paid the ultimate price to protect this land.

As if knowing what she was thinking, Shen Fuhan said, "Don't be sad. Seven years have passed, and these things have long since faded away."

Wen Jiayue thought silently, if he was really as nonchalant as he appeared, why would he remember the number seven so clearly?

She couldn't bear to let him press the button again; perhaps every time he pressed it, he would think of his parents one more time.

Thinking of this, Wen Jiayue grasped his wrist.

"I feel much better, let's go to sleep."

Shen Fuhan readily withdrew his hand and instead grasped hers.

"If it hurts again, call me anytime."