Amidst the old lady's rambling, Si Tian finished her bath, dried her hair, wrapped herself in the thick cotton clothes given by the old lady, and put on the cotton hat. She walked out of the house lightly.
Outside, it was pitch black. The rain hadn't stopped. Under the eaves, a man sat by the charcoal stove, holding a few damp cigarettes, roasting them over the fire.
As Si Tian walked out, she heard him coughing and recalled what the old lady said to her earlier—"I think that young lad seems to have a fever."
She glanced down at him again. His handsome face was pale, but there was a slight flush.
While she was looking at him, he coughed several more times, clearly unable to hold it back.
He only wore a thin shirt; the vest and coat had been given to her earlier.
Si Tian couldn't help but speak, "Are you feeling unwell?"
"No."
"You're coughing."
"An accident."
