When Gu Mian arrived at the presidential suite of MS Hotel, Li Tingshen was sitting on the living room sofa.
He was not smoking but was fiddling with his phone, not knowing what he was looking through.
The hotel's air circulation system was top-notch, and no smell of smoke lingered, but Gu Mian spotted several cigarette butts in the ashtray at a glance.
Gu Mian walked up and sat down beside him, taking his hand to feel his pulse.
"Did you have a headache today?"
"For a while."
"How long did it last?"
"About five or six minutes."
"The pulse seems quite stable," Gu Mian withdrew her hand, "but I think a hospital stay is needed for observation, to see through instruments whether the blood clots are compressing when you have a headache."
"Do you wish for me to regain my memory?" Li Tingshen suddenly asked.
Gu Mian looked at him calmly, "I wish for you to be healthy, free from pain, and live a long life."
