Next—Door Single Rich—Neighbour, Julia.

Julia was surprised by that question, but she still answered it after a moment of hesitation, "Yes."

Jeffrey continued, "Then can you go to 6—1 to see if Mr. Ainsworth is there? I called him several times, but the line was busy. He is running a fever. I'm quite worried about him."

So Ford was the man next door?

Julia then said, "Jeffrey, I'm not a doctor. I suggest you call 911."

Then Julia hung up.

On the other side, Jeffrey muttered to himself with a sad face, "How am I going to complete the mission?"

He had to take a leap of faith.

Right then Julia received a ton of text messages. It was all from Jeffrey.

"You know that Mr. Miller hates being disturbed. If I call 911 for nothing, I will lose my job."

"I'll be there in a minute. Please check on him."

"You are the most beautiful and kind lady I have ever met. Please have pity on me."

Julia replied after while, "Alright."

She thought that, those words actually came from a man with a rough face and a sturdy body. How funny!

After a minute, Julia opened the door. Well, she did not yield her assent to Jeffrey's entreaty because of his flattery.

She simply wanted to know if her human ATM was alive.

When she reached the door to Room 6—1, a new text message came.

It was Jeffrey, of course, "The password is XXX825."

It's surprised her.

No way! She didn't read it wrong, did she?

Ford actually ... used her birthday as the password? Wasn't she merely the supporting actress in this script?

Why did she become the star after she pulled away from the main line of the story?

So whoever walked away first was meant to be his lover's heart's desire?

What an old—fashioned plot!

Maybe the author has never read a book!

Even the listener has stopped providing this kind of story.

Another message came from Jeffrey, "Have you entered? Is Mr. Ainsworth there?"

She could tell that Jeffrey's mood was contagious. Julia started to get worried too, and focused on opening the door.

There was only one light in the corner of the room. The living room was exceptionally huge. The cold—colored decoration gave it more room to spare. Julia smelled a faint scent of fir, which Ford usually wore.

The man was leaning against the head of the bed with a frown, seemingly asleep. His long, straight eyelashes cast a shallow on his alabaster skin.

Julia leaned closer and felt his forehead.

It was hot.

At close range, she could see that the man's hair was not as neat as usual, sprawling on his forehead. His cheeks were slightly red. His tie was loose, his shirt was unbuttoned, and his exquisite collarbones were exposed. He looked lazy, messy, and vulnerable.

Julia frowned slightly. This sickly beauty was inviting.

Forget it!

As a promising young lady, she could not succumb to temptation.

Don't act like you've never seen a man before.

Jeffrey texted again, "How is it going?"

She replied, "He is having a fever."

Jeffrey continued, "The medical kit is in the first drawer on the right side of the bedroom. Could you take his temperature? And if his fever was high, could you feed him antipyretic?"

"I'm occupied with some non—core business. And it will take a while."

After receiving the rest of Jeffrey's text, Julia regretted that she ever came to help.

But now she had to do something about it.

She found the thermometer in the drawer and flipped Ford's hand on the quilt to take his temperature.

Then, her wrist was grabbed, and it felt hot. Perhaps because Ford was a little weak, and his grip wasn't tight, Julia easily broke free.

She saw that the sickly beauty opened his eyes halfway and stared at her, his voice slightly hoarse, "You are here?"

Julia looked at the thermometer, 38.8 degrees Celsius.

She raised two fingers and asked, "Tell me the number."

Ford answered feebly, "Two."

Fortunately, he didn't become stupid.

She asked again, "Who am I?"

The man looked up, "My wife."

"..." Julia suppressed her impulse to hit him on the head with the thermometer, telling herself that it was wrong to hit a patient.

"If you continue to speak nonsense, I will sue you for slander."

The man acted like a child, "You are my wife."

Julia felt that reasoning with a person with a high fever was a stupid thing to do, but she couldn't help but tease him, "Read after me: you are my next—door single rich neighbor, Julia."

Ford didn't say anything.

Julia felt relieved, she stood up and turned around. A low and somewhat aggrieved voice came from behind her, "Don't go...."

She paused and said, "I'll get the antipyretic."

The man answered lazily, "Alright."

When Julia returned, the man had changed his posture. He was leaning against the head of the bed, resting his thin yet strong arm on the bedside. To her surprise, his shirt was completely unbuttoned, his perfect body exposed.

It suddenly felt hot, but a feverish patient could not enjoy air conditioning.

Julia handed over the antipyretic and looked away in embarrassment.

When Ford reached for the antipyretic, his shirt opened a little wider.

"I'm leaving." Julia turned around in a hurry and rushed to the door.

The man behind her opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but gave up.

Then the door was closed, and the room fell into silence. Even the faint fragrance disappeared without a trace.

Ford lowered his eyes and stopped pretending to be weak.

The glass still felt warm, and he drank the medicine in one gulp. It left a strong aftertaste, too sweet.

He tapped his phone casually.

Jeffrey grinned from ear to ear looking at the five—digit supper fee on his phone, deciding that he would ride on Julia's coattails.

The sweat on his body was uncomfortable, so Ford got up and took off his shirt. He went into the bathroom. The warm water trickled down, sticking his hair to his face. He closed his eyes and swallowed, supporting himself on the wall. Veins stood out on the back of his hands. Julia's cool touch could still be felt.

"Shit!" The man cursed in a low voice.

After the shower, Ford casually wiped his hair. The medicine kicked in, and he fell asleep, having good dreams all night.

At dawn, Julia was woken up by the alarm clock. There was a new Facebook message from Andrew. She rubbed her hair and sat up.