Chen Jiayan's voice came through softly, "Baola, have you eaten lunch yet?"
Xie Baola's languid tone, tinged with a bit of hoarseness, transmitted through the phone, "Sleeping."
Chen Jiayan could tell something was off with her voice. Her voice was always sweet, even when she was emotional; it remained delicate and pleasant to listen to. Now, her voice sounded unlike its usual self.
Chen Jiayan asked keenly, "Baola, what's wrong with you?"
Xie Baola's hand rested on her forehead, feeling a burning heat, "I'm feeling a bit unwell."
"Do you have a cold or a fever?" Chen Jiayan's voice turned anxious.
He rose from his seat, mobile phone in one hand, and took his jacket from the back of the chair as he made his way out of the office.
Xie Baola, feeling lethargic, seemed light as air, as though she was walking on clouds.
"I'm just still a bit sleepy. I'll sleep a bit more and eat something if I'm hungry. Don't worry about me."
How could he not worry?
Her health was always good.
