His long hair hung loosely over his shoulders, covering half of his pallid face, obscuring the once-slight prideful defiance that was now completely absent. He beckoned gently, "Xuanji, come here."
Xuanji's feet seemed nailed to the ground; she hadn't expected him to be awake at this time, and a moment of panic ensued. However, she obediently walked over, stood by the bed, and took his icy hand, murmuring, "Does it still hurt?"
He shook his head, chuckling softly, "Your eyes are red, like a little rabbit."
She felt rather embarrassed, rubbed her eyes, and mumbled, "They're not that red..." These days, she really had cried all the tears she hadn't shed in fifteen years; her eyes were always red, and she found it awkward.
He sighed, suddenly coughing twice, clutching his chest with an expression of pain. Xuanji turned pale with fright, staring at him helplessly. He pinched her hand weakly and said, "It's okay... I won't die."
