Her lashes fluttered before she slowly opened her eyes, and a man's low, crisp, almost doting voice sounded from above, "Awake? Shall we go down for a meal?"
Chi Huan looked at the man sitting by the bed.
Underneath his black short hair, his handsome face wasn't as indifferent and stern as usual but covered with a thin layer of tender warmth. His dark, deep eyes were fixed on her, very attentive.
He was dressed in a white shirt, so clean that it seemed untouched by dust, without a single wrinkle.
At first glance, he was impeccably dressed.
It was as if everything she had been through was merely her own imagination and illusion.
She felt somewhat dazed and slow, but she still slowly sat up.
Yet, she didn't take the man's outstretched hand.
Her face remained expressionless, bland, with a faint, almost imperceptible coldness.
