The raise of Maureen Smith and her Good Luck System-Chapter 78 - Visiting Liam at his home

At first glance, he looked exactly like someone who was sick and unattended.

Maureen raised her head to look at him and exclaimed in surprise, “Liam, why is your hair wet?

Are you trying to wash your hair while you have a fever?

Are you trying to kill yourself?” Liam rubbed his forehead.

Instead of answering, he coldly asked, “Why are you here?”

Maureen did not notice his unusual demeanor, she directly leaned in to take a look inside, “Niel said you were sick, is there anyone at home —”

Taking a quick look inside, Maureen confirmed that there was no one in Liam’s house.

The interior of the duplex was too desolate; the curtains were drawn, the living room was bare and completely devoid of any furniture.

The TV background wall was empty, with only a couch and white walls, it seemed like the two-hundred square meter space only had a floor.

The marble table at the open-concept cooking area looked like new, and the warranty sticker on the refrigerator wasn’t even peeled off yet.

She was fortunate to have come.

Otherwise, what would Liam eat for dinner — would he still eat take-outs while sick?

Before she had time to see clearly, Liam pushed her away with a finger pressed to her forehead.

The finger on her brow felt hot.

Liam did not let her in.

“Don’t you have the inter-school competition to prepare for?

Shouldn’t you be seeing others that you want to see?

You still have time to find someone as insignificant as me?”

Liam coldly inquired, his voice hoarse.

“Huh?” Maureen was confused,

“I have already finished my day’s revision, now that school’s over I have free time.

I heard you were sick so I—-” Liam mournfully interrupted her, “What’s it to you whether I’m sick or not?

Do you even care?” Maureen: ???

What was this all about?

Was he delirious from the fever?!

One day apart and his talking was strange.

Fearing his mind was actually affected by the fever, Maureen anxiously rolled the medicine bag onto her wrist, and pushed him inside, “Hurry up, dry your hair!

Go lie down in bed!” She accidentally pushed a little hard, Liam staggered, and his hot breath pressured over.

Maureen quickly steadied him.

“How much do you weigh?!” Maureen asked strenuously, feeling like she was shouldering a weight as heavy as a mountain, almost being pushed down, her five-foot-seven height trembling like a Stick in the wind, on the verge of breaking, “You usually look so thin–”

“I am six feet two, alright?!

Go ask how much other guys who are six feet two weigh!”

Liam retorted angrily, “Plus, the quilt weighs about 20 kg!” He was filled with indignation, thinking to himself, so what if Richard was slim, so what if he was slender.

Disliking him was one thing, but to even mind his weight?

“You don’t need to hold me.”

Liam, engulfed in the flames of anger, shrugged off Maureen’s hand and turned to walk inside.

Maureen: ” Closing the door behind her, Maureen removed her backpack, glancing around.

In Liam’s large duplex apartment, surprisingly, there was no coffee table.

She had no choice but to drop her stuff on the floor.

Liam plopped himself heavily onto the sofa.

As Maureen went over to him, she could feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the blanket wrapped around him.

Reaching out to touch his neck, she quickly pulled her hand back after feeling the heat.

She thought to herself,

“This is bad, we need to get to a hospital.” Maureen hastily said to Liam,

“Hasn’t a private doctor been here?

Otherwise, I can accompany you to the hospital?”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Liam glanced at her, his eyes red and swollen.

His facial expression was complex for some reason, filled with anger, irritation, solitude, and hurt.

He peremptorily turned his head away: “Don’t touch me.”

Maureen: “…” Maureen thought he must be delirious from the fever and had no patience to squabble with him.

“If you don’t want to go, then we won’t.

It’s raining outside and it wouldn’t be good to catch a cold.

Let’s try to bring down the fever at home first.

Do you have boiling water here?”

While speaking, Maureen switched on a light near the entrance, then went to search for water near the kitchen counter.

After discovering there was no hot water, she tiptoed to find a kettle from the cupboard and started to boil water.

Maureen, while skillfully heating up water, urged,

“You should hurry and dry your hair, then put on a fever patch, drink some hot water, take medicine and go to sleep on the bed.

You will feel better after sweating a bit.”

A few minutes later, the water began to bubble and boil.

Maureen thought Liam had also gone to the bathroom to dry his hair.

As she turned around, to her surprise, he was still sitting on the sofa, casting a forlorn look on her with a pale face.

With red eyes and gasping for breath, it seemed as if he had experienced an apocalypse.

Maureen: “…” Isn’t it just a cold?

Why is he acting like he’s heartbroken?!

However, Maureen remembered the last time she got drunk and vomited on him, suddenly she lost the confidence to scold him.

Maureen fetched a glass and poured a cup of hot water.

She then went to the bathroom to get a towel and a hairdryer – the water on the bathroom tiles was not yet dry.

Had Liam just washed his hair?

Maureen couldn’t comprehend his thought process.

Why would he wash his hair when he was sick?

She walked over to Liam and handed him the hot water, telling him to hold it with both hands: “Have some water, your lips are very dry.”

Liam took the water, his head hanging like a frost-stricken eggplant.

Meanwhile, Maureen picked up a towel and draped it over his head, attempting to dry it haphazardly.

The shampoo Liam uses has a unique scent.

It was a light pine fragrance mixed with some Gardenia flower aroma, very refreshing and pleasant.

However, while drying his hair, feeling his feverishly hot forehead under her fingertips, Maureen had no energy to care about other things.

She was wholly focused on helping him dry his hair quickly to get him into bed to sweat it out.

Liam stared at the ground with a bitter feeling in his heart.

He was nice to her, treating her like his girlfriend.

But she didn’t like him even one bit.

How good could Richard possibly be?

Was he taller than him?

Was he wealthier?

” Mr.

Williams, is this towel meant for drying hair?

I just grabbed it at random.”

Maureen thought about it only after almost drying off.

Liam lethargically opened an eyelid to take a look.

“It’s for feet.”

He said, despairingly.

Maureen questioned, “…Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Liam, who was no longer in the mood to deal with such trivial matters, merely said, “Stop calling me Mr.

Williams.”

The hand that Maureen was using to dry his hair paused, “What’s wrong, should I call you Boss?”