Suddenly, Su Zimo heard a voice.
"Sister, is that person still unconscious?"
A slightly tender voice of a young man sounded, seemingly grumbling.
"Not yet."
Another voice sounded. It was rather pleasant and sounded like a young girl.
Su Zimo opened his eyes and looked over.
He was in a medium-sized room. Lying on a sandalwood bed, he was covered with a thick blanket. The light-colored curtains were closed and exuded a faint fragrance.
On the wooden table beside the bed was a simple basin of orchids and a bronze mirror.
The room was clean and tidy. Although the decorations were simple and plain, there was a hint of elegance in it—it looked like a young girl's room.
Although the door was tightly shut, Su Zimo could see two figures walking over with his eyesight.
The figure on the left was slightly shorter, but his shoulders were wide and he strode with vigor.
