Qi Yu slowly woke up, and seeing Li Mingjue looking at her seriously, for some reason her eyelid twitched.
Perhaps she felt guilty.
Qi Yu touched her nose and inwardly cursed at herself, guilty of what?
She was, after all, the one who had saved Li Mingjue's life. Even if she had deceived him, could that compare to the critically valuable life of Prince Qi?
She lowered her head, lifted the lid, and glanced at the medicine in the stove.
The pungent aroma of the medicinal herbs instantly filled the room, suppressing all their clandestine thoughts.
Qi Yu held out the bowl to him, "Come on, drink the medicine first."
Li Mingjue was helped by her to sit up straight, his back leaning against the firm wall.
He looked at the dark bowl of medicine, his thin lips pressed lightly together.
Perhaps few people knew that the imposing Prince Qi was not afraid of pain or death, yet he dreaded bitterness.
