The sunlight warmly streamed in through the window, and when Han Yi opened her eyes, she saw a figure standing in front of her bed.
That warm sunlight enveloped the figure.
It seemed like a dream, almost ethereal.
She recognized him—it was Gong Tingxuan.
Then, she closed her eyes again.
Gong Tingxuan would not come to see her.
There were only two exceptional circumstances: one was if she had died, and the other was if she was dreaming.
She did not wish for either case to be true.
After a while, she opened her eyes again, and Gong Tingxuan was still standing beside her bed, gazing at her.
She had never seen him look at her so tenderly before.
Her last memory was of the moment she fainted.
Yes, she had donated blood to Lin Ruoyao, and then she had passed out.
She did not remember anything that happened afterward.
"Young Master, the ginseng soup is ready!"
"Mhm, set it down," he sat in front of her, "You're awake? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?"
