Her face was still somewhat pale, her forehead marred by a wound. Though she slept, her delicate eyebrows were tightly furrowed, her lips occasionally moving, murmuring something.
Because the voice was too soft, Shi Che couldn't make out exactly what she was muttering, only faintly hearing words like "don't" and such.
Though he couldn't hear clearly, he knew for sure that the incident in the elevator yesterday must have terrified Ling Chuxia. After all, it happened so suddenly; if he hadn't been there, and only Chuxia had been there, then the person lying in bed... might have been her by now. But damn it, he still hadn't been able to protect her properly—he still let her get hurt.
Shi Che's heart clenched in pain, and his gaze slightly darkened. He slowly and laboriously raised his hand, which fell very gently onto Ling Chuxia's forehead, his fingertips almost too afraid to touch her wound.
It must hurt a lot, being bumped like that.
