Zhangsun Wuji slanted his head, and his usually calm fingers slightly trembled. He let go of the teacup that had been on his palm, keeping his hand into his sleeve.
There was a type of pain that he could not lessen, but he had to suffer along with her.
But Meng Fuyao suddenly stopped crying.
Time was precious. Tears would only blur her vision of her mother's face, and that was too much of a waste.
She tried hard to blink her eyes wide open. Then, she heard a bang as the door to the ward was being pushed open, and a crowd of people barged in.
The one in front had a big physique - Fatty.
Fatty, who had cried for his parents in the ancient tomb, whose bum she had attacked.
