Mengyao and Qiu Wen entered Ye Fan’s hospital room, and Fire Phoenix enthusiastically approached.

"Mengyao, you’re here." Fire Phoenix stepped forward and hugged Mengyao, greeting her.

"Thank you for everything." Mengyao looked at Fire Phoenix with gratitude.

"Don’t mention it, I’ll leave you to take care of him. I’ll be downstairs—let’s talk later." Fire Phoenix said with a smile.

Of course, Fire Phoenix wanted to ensure Ye Fan and Mengyao had their private space to talk; she was always astute about these things.

After greeting her master, Qiu Wen also temporarily left.

The room now only had Mengyao and Ye Fan.

"You came?" Ye Fan asked softly.

"I did." Mengyao replied grumpily, "If I didn’t come, I wouldn’t have known you were hurt so badly. Seriously, you didn’t even tell me about something this major. If Fire Phoenix didn’t inform me, I’d still be in the dark."

"Isn’t this nothing serious?" Ye Fan said earnestly. "I didn’t want you to worry unnecessarily."

"I’m not worried now." Mengyao replied, still angry, "Whether you’re hurt or not, you should have told me. I have the right to know. Even if you were trying to protect me, you should consider my perspective too."

"I promise, there won’t be a next time." Ye Fan, seeing Mengyao still upset, could only speak gently, "From now on, whatever happens, you’ll be the first to know."

"That’s more like it, remember what you said." Mengyao responded softly.

"I’ll remember for sure." Ye Fan, noticing Mengyao wasn’t pursuing the matter further, changed his tone, "I’ve seen all kinds of storms in my life; this is nothing. Don’t let it bother you."

"Always bragging, but look at your current state." Mengyao replied, a hint of playful reproach in her voice.

"Even horses stumble sometimes, I was careless." Ye Fan said sheepishly.

"You keep telling me nice things, but like the butcher said, I’m not your mom—you can’t just share good news and hide bad news from me." Mengyao said sternly.

"..." Ye Fan was at a loss, his expression changing several times, and then said helplessly, "Sigh, even you’re saying this—does it make sense?"

"Are you saying I’m being unreasonable?" Mengyao’s countenance tightened as she questioned him.

"I wasn’t talking about you, I meant the butcher—extremely unreasonable." Ye Fan said bitterly, seeing Mengyao’s face turning angry, he naturally began to appease her, not daring to be forthright.

"That’s better." Finally, Mengyao was no longer upset.

It was time to eat, and Mengyao personally fed Ye Fan.

"I can do it myself, no need to trouble you, take a break." Ye Fan resisted.

"Be good, open your mouth." Mengyao commanded firmly.

"I’m not a child, you don’t have to pamper me like this; it’s quite uncomfortable." Ye Fan’s expression turned gloomy.

"Listen, don’t resist." Mengyao coaxed, offering a spoonful of chicken soup to Ye Fan’s mouth.

Sigh, what could he say?

Ye Fan could only accept willingly, letting Mengyao feed him.

After a few bites, he was internally delighted, happiness welled up from within—this treatment was exceptional. Yet outwardly, he pretended to resist not being able to eat by himself, feigning a grievance, ultimately succumbing to Mengyao’s playful dominance.

"Isn’t this being good?" Mengyao was in good spirits.

"You can just feed me without all the child-talk, alright?" Ye Fan complained demurely, "You’re making me feel like a child; it’s quite awkward."

"It’s okay, you’ll get used to it." Mengyao replied nonchalantly.

"Can someone get used to this? Dare to?" Ye Fan’s face fell.

"Stop being petty, come on, open up, another bite." Mengyao laughed.

"Sigh, I see now—you’re just here to amuse yourself with me." Ye Fan replied desolately.

Helplessly, he had no choice but to open his mouth, eating whatever Mengyao fed him.

"See, isn’t this nice? Eating obediently, how wonderful." Mengyao said with a smile.

"I’ll listen to you; whatever you say goes—who says I’m the patient here." Ye Fan had finally resigned himself.

Ye Fan enjoyed a fulfilling meal, personally fed by Mengyao, experiencing pure inner joy. Yet, outwardly he bore an awkward expression, for in terms of pride, it was unbecoming for a man to be treated like a child. But deep down, he found sweetness in it all.

After the meal, Mengyao tidied up briefly before asking, "Anything else you’d like to eat? I’ll prepare it and feed you."

"I’m a bit sleepy after eating." Ye Fan responded absent-mindedly, not daring to eat further—being fed by Mengyao, he’d eaten too much, too quickly. Lying in bed, he risked indigestion; overeating wasn’t ideal.

Normally, he’d eat little, just enough to regain strength. But with Mengyao feeding him, temptation made him overeat unknowingly. Happiness struck suddenly, indulging for a while naturally filled him.

"Sleepy?" Mengyao’s face changed, playfully complaining, "Are you a little piggy, sleepy after eating? No sleeping allowed!"

"I’m not sleepy, not at all." Ye Fan promptly assured, he hadn’t been sleepy—but his comment was merely an excuse to avoid eating more, laden with bitterness, "Mengyao, I know I was wrong, alright? Just don’t be mad anymore—it won’t be long before I’m discharged, as healthy as ever."

He could see it clearly; Mengyao was angry, worrying about his condition.

"I’m not mad, not angry at all." Mengyao laughed merrily, "Would I dare be mad? You said you’re sleepy—are you going to sleep and telling me to leave?"

She understood Ye Fan’s situation well, and so could playfully scold him a bit.

Though she appeared cheerful, Ye Fan worried inside.

If Ye Fan’s injuries were serious, she wouldn’t dare speak like this. But without major complications, her reservations eased.

"No, absolutely not trying to make you leave." Ye Fan explained truthfully, "I said I was sleepy—it was a slip of tongue. It was an excuse for not eating further. Being fed was delightful, unknowingly overeating, couldn’t eat anymore. Thus I used ’sleepy’ as an excuse, honestly without other meanings. Don’t read too much into it."

"Oh, drama!" Mengyao teased with a roll of her eyes at Ye Fan. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"Ouch!" Suddenly, Ye Fan had an idea, feigning pain as he wailed, "My chest, it hurts."

"Chest pain?" Mengyao, falling for it, rushed to gently massage Ye Fan.

Ye Fan glanced sideways at Mengyao, showing smug satisfaction—his ’chest pain’ was a playful deceit.

Seeing Mengyao tending to his chest, he resolved to keep up the kindly fib.