There are very few texts that she couldn't understand.
Dr. Fu really is cultured.
"How long have I been asleep?" Jiang Ruan sat up from the bed, rubbing her delicate hair. Her voice was a bit hoarse, but not unpleasant to the ear.
She took a look around, and noticing her surroundings more carefully, she found that Fu Chi's home was more impersonal than she had imagined, with colors so pale they were striking.
Only one place is striking...
There was a painting hanging on the wall across from her.
Black frame, black background, frighteningly red splattered across the oppressive black, like a gash bleeding continuously. It was static, yet it gave her an eerie illusion of blood pouring out continuously.
It was terrifying, gloomy.
It didn't match the man's demeanor at all.
"Two days."
Fu Chi poured her a glass of water.
Jiang Ruan didn't stand on ceremony, she grabbed the glass and guzzled it down.
She felt like a dehydrated fish on the verge of death.
She felt awful.
