The sunlight shining through a gap in the curtains was a little too bright for her. She instinctively raised a hand to block the light; a second later, a masculine hand shot out and drew the curtains firmly together. The room seemed a lot more soothing and cosy without the harsh sunlight.
"How are you feeling?" A warm, comforting hand had rested upon Yan Huan's forehead before she could process what was going on.
"Your fever's gone down." Lu Yi withdrew his hand. Yan Huan saw that his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep; nevertheless, he seemed to be in good spirits.
"What happened…" She had barely begun to speak when she realized that her throat was uncomfortably dry. She sounded as though she had swallowed a mouthful of sand—where had her clear, lovely voice gone?
"Here, drink this." Lu Yi poured a glass of water and handed it to Yan Huan.
