Zuo Xiangning had been sick since that day.
She didn't know how many times she had thrown up, nor did she know how long she had been lying in bed.
Her complexion was pale, her eyes lifeless, as if she had lost all her strength.
Her originally elegant long hair clung messily to her face, a bit disheveled.
Her lips were cracked and dry, her body weakly swaying with the gentle rocking of the ship, like a leaf without support, ready to drift away at any moment.
She closed her eyes, wanting to shut out everything from the outside world, but the nauseating feeling of churning seasickness refused to dissipate.
Someone gently lifted her and brought a cup of warm water to her lips, but she didn't even have the strength to lift her hands.
Water spilled from the corner of her mouth, soaking her front.
She gently shook her head, indicating she wanted no help, simply to be left alone in quiet.
"How much longer until we arrive at the next town?" the man asked softly.
