Yelu Yan seldom felt so helpless, and the few times he did, it was always about something related to Li Xianyun.
However, he believed that with human effort, there must be someone in the world who could cure Li Xianyun's ailment.
With this thought, Yelu Yan suppressed all his emotions; he didn't want his worries to affect Li Xianyun.
Yelu Yan scooped a spoonful of ginger soup, tasted it himself first—it was a bit hot and carried the distinctive spiciness of ginger.
Li Xianyun, leaning against the soft pillows, parted her lips slightly, "Husband, ginger soup should be drunk while it's hot. Give it to me."
But Yelu Yan didn't give it to her, "Let me feed you."
He said, scooping another spoonful and bringing it to Li Xianyun's lips.
Li Xianyun took it in her mouth, and looking at his cautious and dazed expression, she comforted him, "Husband, I'm fine, you don't need to worry."
