The person lying on the hospital bed had a pale face. Some strands of hair covered her face, adding a bit of broken beauty to her.
Jiang Zhihan's slightly anxious footsteps stopped abruptly when he saw that the person on the bed was safe and sound.
He walked forward, lowered his head, and quietly brushed away the hair that was covering her face.
"Song Qingyou-"
Jiang Zhihan said softly.
This was the first time he had seen Song Qingyou so lifeless.
She was like an exquisite doll in a glass window.
The sight was beautiful enough, but it was inexplicably unpleasant.
Jiang Zhihan stared blankly for two seconds before he subconsciously reached out to touch her face.
But just as his fingers approached, Song Qingyou suddenly reached out and grabbed him.
Then, the person on the bed suddenly opened her eyes.
A handsome young man stood by the bed, slightly bent over.
