Ziyi is still running a fever. After talking for a while, she seems to have lost some of her energy.
Pei Yuanchen gave her some water again, and she closed her eyes after drinking.
Pei Yuanchen laid her flat on the bed, checked the IV bottle, and when it was almost empty, he called the nurse to remove the needle.
The hospital room was peaceful.
Night had deepened, but Pei Yuanchen did not feel sleepy at all.
His fingers moved slightly, instinctively wanting to smoke, but realizing this was a hospital and the woman in the bed was still sick, he held back.
Ziyi slept soundly, her delicate face nestled in the soft pillow, a small cross still hanging around her neck.
Pei Yuanchen's pupils contracted slightly.
That cross was a relic of his mother, signifying the original sin he bore.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and he leaned down to place a kiss on He Ziyi's still somewhat pale lips.
...
The next morning, Ziyi finally woke up.
