Long Xiliang listened to her words, hesitated for a moment, and just as he was about to speak, he started coughing again.
Lu Xiaoyou immediately reached into the quilt, grabbed his wrist, her fingers touching the man's pulse.
Long Xiliang realized what she was doing. He turned his head, his deep eyes wide open, tracing the contours of Lu Xiaoyou's face in the dark.
Long Xiliang could vaguely make out the expression on her face; her brows furrowed deeply, her expression turning solemn.
Lu Xiaoyou felt his pulse, it was strong and steady, indicating that his body was healthy, and there were no signs of weakness that would come with a cold invasion.
But the man's body was very hot, even his hands were hot.
Lu Xiaoyou's hand slid over his arm; her palm briefly touching Long Xiliang's skin, and soon her palm began to sweat.
Finally, when Long Xiliang's coughing stopped, Lu Xiaoyou reached to help him along his chest, allowing him to breathe smoothly.
