My straight roommate is so good

The steam rising from the bowl carried the enticing sweetness of shrimp, crab, and shellfish, mingling with the fragrant aroma of the rice porridge.

The shrimp and crab porridge delivered to Qiao Song included not only crab and split shrimp but also an extra portion of dried scallops.

He scooped up the dried scallops and savored them, feeling as though he was tasting Ling Jianshu’s affection.

Usually, he would have little appetite when sick, but today was different. He enjoyed the shrimp and crab porridge immensely, eating spoonful after spoonful with delight.

Ling Jianshu finished his own rice bowl and turned to look at him.

Qiao Song was eating a bit too fast, and his pale cheeks had taken on a faint blush.

Ling Jianshu, thinking of something, furrowed his brow slightly and came over to check his forehead.

Feeling the warmth on his forehead, Qiao Song looked up at him.

With porridge still in his mouth, he asked hoarsely, “Hmm… What’s wrong?”

Ling Jianshu had already withdrawn his hand but still had a concerned frown. He said softly, “You don’t have a fever, but why is your face so red?”

Qiao Song swallowed the hot porridge and, feeling a bit embarrassed, smiled and said, “Maybe I ate too quickly; it’s hot.”

“Is it that delicious?”

He nodded vigorously, “Yes, it’s delicious.”

Seeing that he was regaining some energy, Ling Jianshu felt relieved.

Noticing that he had no intention of continuing the conversation, Qiao Song buried himself in his bowl of porridge until he had finished every last bit, still feeling unsatisfied.

Ling Jianshu found an inexplicable sense of happiness watching him finish the entire bowl. He couldn’t quite understand why he felt this way.

He didn’t dwell on it and simply went over to clear the table, casually asking, “Do you like eating this because you’re sick, or do you usually like it?”

“It has nothing to do with being sick. I’ve always liked it,” Qiao Song answered without hesitation, then paused for two seconds before adding quietly, “But I usually control my weight and have no reason to eat it.”

Ling Jianshu remembered how Qiao Song always washed his vegetables in plain water and asked, “Do art students need to control their weight so strictly?”

“No,” Qiao Song shook his head gently, “It’s just a personal reason.”

Ling Jianshu pressed his lips together, seeming to want to ask more.

Qiao Song preempted him and said, “Actually, there’s no special reason. I just… don’t want to get too fat.”

Ling Jianshu’s gaze lingered on him, but he decided not to confront him about his evasive answer.

In the afternoon, Ling Jianshu had a mandatory class to attend.

The professor of this class was famously strict; even in the Computer Science Institute, known for its rigorous academic standards, this professor was the strictest of all.

Everyone knew that missing this professor’s class would result in a failing grade.

He couldn’t stay in the dorm to take care of Qiao Song, so he repeatedly reminded him before leaving to contact him immediately if he felt worse.

Qiao Song agreed verbally but felt conflicted inside, not wanting to disturb him during his class.

As he watched Ling Jianshu leave, he felt a bit lonely but didn’t want to ask him to stay. Thus, he was left alone in the dorm.

The steam from the shrimp and crab porridge had long dissipated, leaving only silence and chill in the room.

He took advantage of his briefly regained strength to go back to his upper bunk and wrap himself up in the blanket.

Lying flat on his back, he stared at the plain, white ceiling above and reflected on his childish behavior with Ling Jianshu. He felt a bit disdainful of himself.

Although many people become more vulnerable when they are sick, this had never happened to him before.

He wasn’t lying to Ling Jianshu.

He had never behaved this way with anyone else, even when sick.

He didn’t understand why he was so unusual today, nor did he understand why he felt so confident that Ling Jianshu would indulge his every unreasonable request.

After some idle thoughts, drowsiness began to set in.

As he closed his eyes to rest, the last thought that flashed through his mind before sleep was—

Would Ling Brother come back to have dinner with him?

Ling Jianshu did not receive any messages from Qiao Song all afternoon and felt increasingly worried.

It turned out he was indeed not a reassuring person.

When he returned to the dorm after his required class, he found that Qiao Song had developed a fever.

He gently squeezed his arm through the blanket and called softly, “Qiao Song, wake up.”

“Ling Brother, you’re back.”

Qiao Song groggily opened his eyes, his hot breath lightly brushing against Ling Jianshu’s hand.

Ling Jianshu pressed his lips together and glanced at him before saying, “Do you know you have a fever?”

“Ah? Really…” Qiao Song, still groggy from sleep, felt his forehead and mumbled hoarsely, “I don’t feel very hot.”

Ling Jianshu held his hand, sighing in resignation, “Because your hand is also hot.”

Qiao Song looked somewhat stunned, gazing down at his hand enveloped in Ling Jianshu’s palm, his eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Ling Jianshu’s body was slightly cooler than his.

This made him realize he probably did have a fever.

But strangely, the cool sensation of skin touching skin gradually turned into a contrasting warmth, seeping into his skin and creating an indescribable sense of safety.

They looked at each other, their gazes meeting briefly for just two seconds.

After a moment, Ling Jianshu looked away first and asked in a normal tone, “Can you get up? I’ll take you to the hospital.”

Qiao Song, pulling himself back from his drifting thoughts, said lazily, “Ling Brother, I’m feeling unwell and don’t want to move… How about I take some fever-reducing medicine first and see how it goes?”

Ling Jianshu frowned, clearly disapproving.

However, before he could say anything, Qiao Song added, “It’s so cold outside. Going out with a fever might make it worse.”

Ling Jianshu fell silent.

The phrase “it will be more troublesome if delayed” was on his lips, but he swallowed it back.

He felt conflicted, torn between the thought that Qiao Song made a good point and the feeling that conceding so easily might be too indulgent.

Qiao Song observed his expression.

He sensed that his resolve was softening, so he seized the opportunity.

“I don’t have the strength to get up. Can you get the medicine box for me? It’s in the second drawer of my desk, the white one.”

Ling Jianshu was silent for a moment before finally yielding and saying, “Alright.”

He bent down to retrieve the medicine box from the drawer. Just as he was about to open it, Qiao Song said, “I’ll handle it myself.”

Ling Jianshu paused, looking up at him.

Qiao Song explained quietly, “I haven’t organized the medicine box, so it might be a bit messy… It’s better if I do it.”

His excuse seemed a bit feeble and poorly thought out.

Ling Jianshu noted this but thought that he was sick, so he didn’t need to argue with him.

Thus, he didn’t call him out or ask further questions, simply handing the medicine box to him as requested.

Qiao Song opened the metal clasp, deliberately turning the medicine box away from Ling Jianshu.

Nevertheless, Ling Jianshu, due to his height, could still see clearly inside the box.

Amidst a jumble of disorganized medicine boxes, he caught a glimpse of the word “Fluoxetine.”

… Fluoxetine, what is that for?

He had never heard of this medication before and furrowed his brow in confusion.