17.1

Seonho returned to the bedroom where Chaeyoon was lying down after seeing off the in-call doctor.

Chaeyoon was never a weak child. She was always full of energy and always felt big for her slender frame.

However, looking frail and small like a child, receiving IV fluids, Chaeyoon appeared delicate as if a breath could carry her away.

I can’t leave her alone like this.

That was the only thought in Seonho’s mind.

Yes, people can get sick. But Chaeyoon, neglected, could have been unconscious for days.

Though Seonho had arranged for a bodyguard, he was stationed far away. It took time to notice something was wrong.

What if her condition had worsened beyond help in the meantime?

Reaching that thought chilled him as if he had plunged into ice water.

Should I call every day? But under what pretext?

He was forcing himself to maintain a relationship in the name of a long-distance friend. Using business trips as an excuse to see her would be viewed with suspicion, and calling her every day would be impossible.

Seonho bit his lip.

I must end this damned charade.

His eyes gleamed strangely, as if seized by madness.

***

Chaeyoon opened her eyes. The lavish silk wallpaper with its colorful pattern caught her eye each time.

Why am I here?

That familiar pattern was the wallpaper of the hotel where Seonho stayed whenever he visited.

Did I spend the night with Seonho yesterday? I remember feeling sick and that Seonho and I took a car ride together. Was that a dream?

Her memories were confused.

Turning her head to the side, she saw that Seonho was not in bed. As she tried to move, her arm stung. She was about to look down to check her arm when Seonho entered the room.

“Seon…”

She tried to call his name, but her throat was dry, and the sound didn’t come out right.

“Just lie down a bit longer. You’re almost done.”

Seonho approached and checked the IV bag. 

That’s why my arm was stinging; it was pierced with a needle.

To think I slept through the needle insertion.

Her muddled memories finally settled, though she still wasn’t sure how she ended up in the room. She remembered getting into the car.

“You’re overtired and have caught a cold.”

“You always overdo it. Such a fuss over a cold, cough.”

Her cough wasn’t as bad as earlier, but her voice was hoarse, making it hard to speak.

“What’s excessive about it? If left unchecked, it could have turned into pneumonia.”

Seonho’s voice was full of reproach.

“Are you the doctor? Pneumonia, really.”

“I didn’t say that. That’s what the doctor said.”

“Doctor? Did I go to a hospital?”

“I called a home-visit doctor. He said you’d need to be hospitalized if the fever doesn’t go down.”

Seonho placed his hand on Chaeyoon’s forehead, cheek, and the back of her neck.

“It feels cool.”

The chill from Seonho’s palm was pleasantly refreshing.

“It seems the fever has gone down though.”

Seonho tilted his head.

“All this fuss over a simple cold, thanks to a friend who overreacts. A home visit doctor and IV fluids. I guess I’m lucky to have such a friend.”

“You were unconscious for hours and still insist it was just a cold?”

“I was unconscious?”

Chaeyoon’s eyes widened in shock.

So that’s why I hadn’t realized I was put to bed or that a needle had been inserted.

“Tsk, fine. I guess I can’t even nag someone who’s sick.”

“You’re nagging right now.”

Although she said that, she didn’t really feel bad.

It was a pleasant tickling sensation that she often felt when she was with Seonho, like a faint spring breeze at the bottom of her heart, or a languorous feeling.

“You really don’t know what real nagging is.”

“I know, you’re a nag.”

“Seeing how you talk back, you seem better. Wait here.”

Seonho called for the nurse who had been waiting in the living room.

The middle-aged nurse greeted Chaeyoon warmly before checking her temperature and removing the IV needle.

[Your fever has gone down. There’s no need to worry too much. I’ll be leaving now, but please call if the fever spikes again.]

The nurse said in a soothing voice.

[Thank you for your hard work.]

Seonho followed the nurse out of the room.

“Can’t I even manage to say ‘thank you’? I’m hopeless.”

Chaeyoon muttered to herself, looking at the ceiling. She tended to get irritable around Seonho.

Maybe it was a side effect of trying not to get too attached.

It was a justified attitude in its own way, but she felt sorry for Seonho who, despite his care, often received no gratitude.

This isn’t fair..

As she was reflecting, the door opened. She turned to see Seonho pushing a tray through the door.

A familiar smell filled the air, and she instinctively sniffed.

“It smells like samgyetang.”

“It’s chicken porridge. I shredded the meat because it’s easier to digest than chunks.”

“How did you get this? It’s unlikely they’d make samgyetang in a hotel in London.”

Chaeyoon pushed herself upright and tried to sit up, but her body was shaking and she couldn’t sit up straight. 

I must be really unwell.

It’s been a while since I’ve been this sick.

“I asked a Korean restaurant to prepare it.”

Seonho carefully helped her sit up and adjusted the pillows behind her back.

“There’s ginseng in the chicken porridge, even kkakdugi as garnish. Isn’t it perfect?”

T/N: Kkakdugi is a type of kimchi made from diced radish.

Chaeyoon was impressed by the complete arrangement.

“It’s from a Korean restaurant, of course they have kkakdugi.”

“What’s this?”

Chaeyoon lifted a cup. The smell of ginger tea rose from it.

“Ginger tea?”

“It’s ginger powder with honey. The restaurant owner said it would taste similar to ginger tea.”

Chaeyoon looked back and forth between the tray and Seonho.

Chicken porridge and ginger tea—it might have been a simple request, but outside of Korea, it would have been a fussy order.

Yet Seonho, having not ignored her offhand comment, had prepared all this in such a short time and brought it to her.

While it’s great to receive expensive gifts that one can’t obtain on their own, people are often most touched when they receive exactly what they wanted, no matter how small.

It’s already more than enough, almost too much. This is really too much trouble.

Her head is racing. Blaring sirens wailed and red warning lights flashed frantically.

I know. I understand it’s dangerous. But it’s really bad to say mean things to push them away after being treated like this. I’m not that heartless.

So, Chaeyoon expressed her feelings without any filters.

“It turns out I have Aladdin’s lamp after all.”

Her gaze at Seonho was soft.

“It’s better than that. Aladdin’s lamp only grants three wishes, and mine is unlimited.”

Seonho spooned some porridge, blew on it gently, and fed it to Chaeyoon. She ate silently; the porridge was just cool enough to smoothly slide down her throat.

“But you can’t grant wishes like a genie. You can’t turn me into a grand sorcerer or something.”

“Do you want to become a sorcerer?”

Somehow she felt like Seonho would grant that wish, too.

“Not really. Oh, I feel like watching Aladdin.”

Her mind was scattered, perhaps due to the sickness.

“Instead of Aladdin, wish to see me.”

“But I am seeing you right now, hehe.”

Chaeyoon giggled like she did once when she was drunk.

“Is your fever coming back?”

His heart ached a bit seeing her laugh at him like that.

Seonho touched her forehead with the back of his hand. She wouldn’t laugh so heartily without cause. But there was no fever.

“More porridge.”

Chaeyoon spoke in a whiny tone, giggling uncontrollably for no apparent reason.

“Okay.”

She opened her mouth like a baby bird as Seonho fed her, and soon the bowl was empty.

“They say not to eat fruit when you have a cold. So, you’ll have to settle for ginger tea for dessert.”

After finishing the porridge, Seonho handed her the ginger tea.

“Of course, I’m satisfied. What more could I ask for here? If I were alone, I’d just be groaning under the covers. If this were Korea, I could have ordered porridge delivery. Delivery culture is the best in our country, right?”

The ginger tea was cooled just right, making it easy to drink. The spicy taste of ginger warmed her throat with each sip. It felt as though it was doing her body good.

After finishing the ginger tea and taking the medicine Seonho gave her, Chaeyoon lay back down in bed. Seonho wiped her face and hands with a wet cloth.

“You’re quite good at taking care of the sick.”

Chaeyoon patted Seonho’s head affectionately, her heart feeling softer than usual.

Is she really getting feverish again? Is the fever messing with her brain?

“That’s right. Who knew I was good at this too.”

Seonho, usually so reticent, now looked sad.

What’s with that look?

It made her feel sorry.