"Wan Lu!" Ran Yan suddenly sat up from the couch, the night wind brushed past, her forehead and back were cool, already soaked with sweat.
"Wife, did you have a nightmare again?" Xing Niang heard the noise, hurriedly carried the lamp from the outer room, pushed open the bamboo curtain, and saw Ran Yan sitting with the covers, then placed the lamp on a low table beside her, and knelt down next to her.
Under the dim light, Xing Niang saw the glistening sweat on Ran Yan's forehead, took out a handkerchief, and wiped it for her, "Wife, ever since you recovered from your illness, you have been waking up frightened every night, you should go to the temple to burn incense."
"Xing Niang, do you know who Wan Lu is?" Ran Yan frowned and asked. She guessed it was something she had tried hard to forget in her previous memories, or perhaps this body suffered selective amnesia.
