Chu Wanning had no way but to tell Xue Zhengyong that he was sick, because it would've been mighty irresponsible going to school with his fever running high, risking not to give good classes and to infect his students. Yet he regrets it because he knows what that implies: sometime during the day he will certainly be visited by someone to bring him medicine. With what a stubborn man he is, only Madam Wang could get him to accept that.
So he begrudgingly gets up from the bed when he hears knocking, dragging himself to the door no matter how unstable he feels. The room has started to spin too quick. But he's a man who endures, always and constantly, he grits his teeth as he subconsciously welcomes the pain, because some part of him knows he deserves it. He's not as good as he wants to present himself to others —and especially he's an old, perverted man for harboring feelings that he shouldn't have even thought about.
He abruptly stops in his tracks when Mo Ran's voice reaches him, eyes widening. He almost considers it's a fever dream, before the young man keeps talking, mentioning medicine. Chu Wanning bites his lips raw, while taking into consideration he could not open the door. He could pretend he's asleep. But Mo Ran would have the keys he gave to his uncle for emergency situations, wouldn't he? He mentally curses himself for giving in when the man asked for them.
Chu Wanning inhales deeply before he opens the door. His cheeks flushed in an uncharacteristic way, his tired eyes rimmed red land on Mo Ran while clearly struggling to stay focused. His hair is loose, mussed from staying in bed and, paired with the old, worn tee he's wearing, collar so loose it shows an entire collar bone and a good portion of a perfectly white and unmarred shoulder, Chu Wanning paints a very different picture from his pristine, flawless usual one. He may think he looks like an unkempt old man, but not everybody would agree.
"Mo Ran." He calls, groggily, voice not warmed up yet. He hesitates for a moment before stepping aside. "Come in." He gestures and he lets go of the door for the other to make himself welcome while he heads further into the apartment —a really messy thing, but it wouldn't surprise anyone who's seen his office. He's too exhausted to even just question why it's him and not Xue Meng, but surely Mo Ran must be really displeased about this.
Walking unsteadily, pale feet appearing from underneath his large pajamas bottoms, he leans against furniture, as the world keeps spinning. "Thank... thank your aunt." He speaks softly. "Tell her I apologize for the trouble, but I'm doing okay." He clearly isn't, but this man is far too proud to make any sense.
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So he begrudgingly gets up from the bed when he hears knocking, dragging himself to the door no matter how unstable he feels. The room has started to spin too quick. But he's a man who endures, always and constantly, he grits his teeth as he subconsciously welcomes the pain, because some part of him knows he deserves it. He's not as good as he wants to present himself to others —and especially he's an old, perverted man for harboring feelings that he shouldn't have even thought about.
He abruptly stops in his tracks when Mo Ran's voice reaches him, eyes widening. He almost considers it's a fever dream, before the young man keeps talking, mentioning medicine. Chu Wanning bites his lips raw, while taking into consideration he could not open the door. He could pretend he's asleep. But Mo Ran would have the keys he gave to his uncle for emergency situations, wouldn't he? He mentally curses himself for giving in when the man asked for them.
Chu Wanning inhales deeply before he opens the door. His cheeks flushed in an uncharacteristic way, his tired eyes rimmed red land on Mo Ran while clearly struggling to stay focused. His hair is loose, mussed from staying in bed and, paired with the old, worn tee he's wearing, collar so loose it shows an entire collar bone and a good portion of a perfectly white and unmarred shoulder, Chu Wanning paints a very different picture from his pristine, flawless usual one. He may think he looks like an unkempt old man, but not everybody would agree.
"Mo Ran." He calls, groggily, voice not warmed up yet. He hesitates for a moment before stepping aside. "Come in." He gestures and he lets go of the door for the other to make himself welcome while he heads further into the apartment —a really messy thing, but it wouldn't surprise anyone who's seen his office. He's too exhausted to even just question why it's him and not Xue Meng, but surely Mo Ran must be really displeased about this.
Walking unsteadily, pale feet appearing from underneath his large pajamas bottoms, he leans against furniture, as the world keeps spinning. "Thank... thank your aunt." He speaks softly. "Tell her I apologize for the trouble, but I'm doing okay." He clearly isn't, but this man is far too proud to make any sense.