Tang Qiu's heart was pounding. She covered his mouth again. "Go to sleep."
Jiang Shaocheng kept silent, but he kissed her forehead before closing his eyes.
Except Tang Qiu's pulse was still racing. She let her eyes wander over his jaw, tilted towards the side of his chest where his heart rested. She was happy, too, to be married to a man who doted on her. He wasn't handsome, or healthy, but he was trying to heal, and so far, his treatment was going well. He was hers–as long as he was alive, he was hers. She was a lucky woman indeed.
