In the room.
Jiayi carried a tray with a long-necked water bottle and a glass on it, having just come in.
Huo Zhenyang lay in bed, the feverish flush on his handsome cheeks slightly faded, his brows lightly furrowed, eyelids firmly shut, seeming even more uncomfortable than before.
The alcohol churned in waves, sometimes surging, sometimes mild.
The tugging and pulling just now seemed to have stirred up the drunkenness again.
Jiayi poured a glass of cool boiled water and approached the edge of the bed, "Mr. Huo, here's your water."
Huo Zhenyang turned over, his deep eyes still tightly closed, his eyelashes cast down, throwing a shadow over his cheeks, his thin lips parted:
"Help me sit up."
Jiayi paused, then had to place the glass aside first, supported his back, and helped him sit up.
