It wasn't until the sound of the door closing again that Lin Jiaojiao reluctantly regained her composure and stumbled towards the bedside.
She hurriedly held Yan Sihan's hand, which was cold as ice without any warmth. The tears she had been holding back instantly broke out.
"Yan Sihan... How are you?" Each word was enunciated with a tremble, proving how worried and scared she was.
The man withdrew his hand from hers, placing it on her unadorned black hair, eventually moving to stroke her cheek, gently wiping away the warm tears at the corner of her eyes with his fingertips.
"Don't be afraid, this king is fine."
Lin Jiaojiao sniffled and only then looked at the silk ribbon in her hand, hurriedly pulling her head out of it.
Seeing this, Yan Sihan propped himself up with one hand, sitting up straight in bed.
The edges of the ointment on his chest bled due to his movements, flowing down like a thin stream.
