When Mo Jingshen woke up, he had been in a coma for two months.
As usual, Qin Siting entered the room in a white hospital gown and a face mask, only to see Mo Jingshen's eyes open. He raised his eyebrows and asked incredulously, "Am I dreaming?" Are you awake?
On the bed, Mo Jingshen looked calm and cold. He looked emotionless at the man in the white gown by the bedside. A long time passed before he frowned. "How long did I sleep?"
His voice was unusually hoarse.
"How long did you sleep?" Qin Siting resisted the urge to call Ji Nuan at once and stared at Mo Jingshen, who was obviously still a bit unconscious. "Two months. Is it long?"
The man on the bed frowned slightly. He didn't speak for a moment, as if he was trying hard to figure out something.
