In the hospital ward, Zhou Yao was standing in front of the bed. He lowered his gaze to look at the woman lying on the bed.
The woman's long eyelashes were closed. She closed her eyes as she slept. Her long, dark hair was laid out on the snowy white pillow and made her smooth face look so pure. There was no trace of blood in her face. Her face was very pale, and she looked sickly.
Zhou Yao's mind went back to all of the looks that she had since they met one another. She was coy and bold. When he made her feel anxious, her beautiful grey eyes would be spinning angrily, and of course, she would also gaze at him gently with her moist eyes.
All of her looks, her joy, anger, sadness, and happiness — he was all smitten with them.
It was his first time looking at her lying on the bed like this. She was Young Miss Leng who did not fear anything, and he did not imagine a day that she would also be hurt like this.
