<h4>Chapter 851: Chapter 851: Miss Yates, Are You Sick?</h4>


    Shey in the bathtub wearing thick clothes.


    Water seeped in through her sleeves, pant legs, cor, and every ce it could prate.


    Soon, her clothes were soaked,pletely drenched from the inside out.


    She soaked in the pool with her soaked clothes for an hour, then walked out of the bathroom like a drenched chicken.


    Outside, the air conditioning was on, set to 38 degrees.


    Scarlett Yates sat on the ground, wearing clothes drenched in cold water.


    The thick clothes were soaked through, leaving a trail of water wherever she walked.


    Where she sat, the camel-colored soft carpet quickly became wet.


    She sat next to the standing air conditioner, letting the hot air from it blow on her for almost two hours, and most of her clothes had dried.


    Her forehead had begun to heat up.


    Scarlett tightened the half-dry clothes being warmed, then switched the air conditioner to the cooling mode, lowering it from 38 degrees to just over ten degrees.


    Sitting in front of the air conditioner, wrapped in wet clothes through the cold and heat for several hours, everything went as Scarlett had expected; she sessfully caught a cold.


    Not only did she catch a cold, but she also developed a fever.


    She started sneezing continuously, and after sneezing for half an hour straight, her head felt as if it were stuffed with arge mass of glue, bing both painful and heavy.


    Dizzily, she crawled up from the floor, took off her wet clothes, changed into pajamas, climbed into bed, pulled up the quilt, and fell into a heavy sleep.


    In her sleep, her body alternated between cold and hot, as if she were in a world of ice and fire, causing her to frown in difort.


    When she woke up, Scarlett Yates didn’t know what time it was.


    The room was dimly lit, it seemed like it was almost dark.


    She felt very dizzy, her forehead was burning, yet her body was shivering with cold.


    No matter how tightly she wrapped herself in the quilt, she couldn’t stop the chill from piercing into her body.


    Knock, knock, knock.


    A light knocking came from outside, followed by Sister-inw Chapman’s voice: "Miss Yates, are you awake?"


    Scarlett, with her head groggy, coughed twice, reaching for the switch on the bedside table and turned on the bedsidemp.


    "Miss Yates, are you awake?" Not receiving a response from her, Sister-inw Chapman knocked again.


    "Come in." Scarlett, supporting her groggy head, sat up, her face appearing sickly pale under the warm yellow light.


    She pulled on her pajama, covering her neck tightly, yet still felt unbearably cold, goosebumps risingyer uponyer all over her body.


    Sister-inw Chapman opened the door and walked in.


    Walking to the bedside, seeing Scarlett looking so frail, she was immediately startled.


    She looked at Scarlett’s exceptionally pale face under the light, paused for a few seconds, and said in surprise, "Miss Yates, are you sick? Why is yourplexion so bad?"


    At noon, she seemed fine. Even after sitting by the sea in the cold wind for over an hour, herplexion wasn’t this bad.


    Scarlett covered her mouth and coughed a few times, her voice bing quite hoarse when she spoke: "It’s nothing, just a bit of a headache. No need to prepare dinner, I don’t have much appetite."


    She spoke lightly, but Sister-inw Chapman’s face revealed an expression of tension.


    The Young Master instructed repeatedly to take good care of Miss Yates. She was fine at noon, but now she’sining of a headache. How could that be nothing?


    Looking at her poorplexion, without a trace of color, how could it really be as simple as she says?