For An Yiqing, there was always an indescribable sense of intimacy towards Zhang Yufeng. This feeling was different from the blood ties she shared with relatives like An Zhihang—it was a kind of resonance, a kind of recognition.
Ever since the first time she saw this comatose girl in the hospital bed, An Yiqing had felt that she must be a resilient person, just like herself. No matter the hardship, people like them would endure, bleeding and gritting their teeth if necessary, to pull through.
That was also the reason why An Yiqing had so wholeheartedly devoted herself to saving Zhang Yufeng in the first place.
Although Zhang Yufeng was a few months older than her, to An Yiqing, she felt like a little sister she wanted to cherish.
"Alright, I'll listen to you, Miss," Zhang Yufeng said, nodding unwittingly while looking down at An Yiqing's gentle face, a warm feeling welling up in her heart.
