Last night, when Zhou Liying again puked at Mu Yuehan, he had called the doctor who had attached glucose to her hand. The needle was attached to her hand and it was paining Mu Yuehan.
"Sir, here is the porridge." His staff served him a bowl full of porridge.
Mu Yuehan accepted it and looked at Zhou Liying.
By now, Zhou Liying had become half-conscious. Her eyes had also become focused and she knew that Mu Yuehan was the one sitting beside her and that she was sick. Very sick.
"Try to have some porridge." Mu Yuehan placed a spoon-filled with little amount of porridge in front of her mouth.
She felt like vomiting when she looked at the food. She did not want to eat, she wanted to sleep again.
"No," she frowned when she heard her voice; it was very throaty and weak. Moreover, her throat burned like hell only by speaking a single word.
