When Li Meirong woke up, she found herself covered underneath a warm blanket on her bed. A deep baritone voice greeted her as she opened her eyes.
"You are awake."
Rubbing her eyes, she bent herself forward and looked towards the direction of the voice, finding herself face to face with a radiant man sitting by the bedside, his frame illuminated by a cold light which seemingly radiated from his own body. Peerless and graceful like an aloof immortal, the man's long, flowing hair was loosely tied at the waist and the wide sleeves of his extended robe draped on the floor. The breathtaking appearance before her eyes sorely clashed with the shoddy cabin's interior.
The instant Zhu Qingyue turned to face her, she felt as though the world stood still. When their eyes met, she suddenly felt her heart pounding in her chest in a constant, throbbing rhythm.
