[ As the man in bed reassembles himself into wakefulness, Lan Zhan takes stock of Wei Ying's appearance. Allergies his foot. His skin is pale and sweaty, the closer he gets the more tired he appears and Lan Zhan's concern mounts.

He sits on bed, eyes flicking across Wei Ying's face. ]

I will not. You need someone to take care of you. I have a strong immune system.

[ The rasp in Wei Ying's speech sounds painful and he is glad he brought honey. As Wei Ying opens his mouth to protest further, Lan Zhan sticks the thermometer under his tongue. ]

Hold it in place, gently.

[ He waits until Wei Ying has grasped it, then ignoring any garbled protests, he strides back into the kitchen where the kettles has just boiled. He washes and then sets out a mug and a glass; he puts a sweet fruit teabag in the mug with honey and pours the hot water in while putting cold water in the glass. Knowing Wei Ying does not possess a tray, he puts the pills in his pocket, puts a damp cloth over one wrist, grabs the drinks and takes it back to the bedroom.

He's just in time to hear the beep of the thermometer as he puts everything on the beside table. Lan Zhan takes the thermometer out of Wei Ying's mouth and hands him the water. ]

You have a fever.

[ Lan Zhan pops two pills out of the packet and holds them out. ]

Swallow both. Then drink the tea. Are you cold?