In a high-end private hospital, Leng Yanbo awoke from a deep slumber. As he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, a flood of memories surged forth, darkening his gaze the more he dwelled on them.
His meticulous scheming ultimately beautified another, how could he possibly accept that?
Clenching his teeth, his hands balled into fists, and he hammered them down onto the bedframe, his whole body throbbing with pain from the effort, cold sweat instantly beading on his forehead. Jiang Yuan was resting in the outer room when she heard the commotion. She immediately woke up in alarm and rushed in.
Seeing Leng Yanbo's face twisted in pain, she braced her hands on the bed's edge, leaned over, and asked anxiously, "Baibai, what's wrong, where does it hurt, tell mom."
There wasn't a single place on Leng Yanbo's body that wasn't in discomfort, but the most uncomfortable was his heart. He had painstakingly dosed Anjing with poison, knowing full well the effect of the drug.
