The Wife's Medicine Box Was Left Open for Her Childhood Sweetheart

I had a fever of 39 degrees Celsius and couldn't find any fever reducers anywhere in the house. My wife, however, took a metal box from a drawer. The high fever blurred my vision, but the sound of her typing the password was exceptionally clear. I glimpsed the numbers. It was her childhood sweetheart's birthday, not mine. Jian Hang's forehead was so hot it could fry an egg. He searched the entire medicine cabinet, but all the fever reducers were gone. There was only an empty box on the coffee table; Ke Nian had said she'd buy some yesterday, but it seemed she'd forgotten again. "Damn it," he cursed, his voice hoarse like sandpaper. 38.9 degrees Celsius. The numbers on the thermometer stung his eyes. Jian Hang grabbed his phone; Ke Nian's chat history was paused.