"Rub my temples for me," the man spoke, his voice hoarse.

Zoe set aside the book in her hands, surprisingly not harboring any resentment. She leaned over to massage him. In the past, she had learned this skill to comfort him after long hours of work.

However, as soon as she touched him, she frowned slightly. "Mason, you have a fever!"

Mason opened his eyes. Due to his illness, his usually bright black eyes seemed dim. Suddenly, his hand reached for her slender waist as if intending to engage in an intimate act.

Zoe restrained his hand, preventing him from acting recklessly.

Mason rarely fell ill, but his temper worsened each time he did. In the past, Zoe had always accommodated him, taking care of him meticulously and occasionally letting him have his way.

Mason, feeling unwell and unsatisfied, became even more disgruntled. His black eyes stared intently at Zoe. "What's wrong? You don't want to do it?"

Zoe took the initiative to sit on his lap, reaching for the medicine box whil