No longer with the unkempt look of the past few days at Wufeng Mountain where he couldn't eat or sleep well, the sleeping Fu Huaizhi seemed less like a mischievous rogue and more like a calm, melancholic handsome man.
Quietly observing him, Wen Yiru dimmed the bedside lamp and went to lie down on the sofa.
The gentle, long breathing sounds began, and Fu Huaizhi slowly opened his eyes on the hospital bed.
He could only see the top of her head, without being able to see her brows or eyes.
But even just this made Fu Huaizhi feel very satisfied.
In the next instant, that satisfaction turned into bitterness.
If it weren't for pretending to sleep, she would have clarified the engagement cancellation with him and wouldn't have stayed even a moment longer, wouldn't she?
Thinking of the numerous urgent calls she made over the past few days, Fu Huaizhi looked at the ceiling overhead, filled with frustration.
They say a forced melon isn't sweet, but for him, even forcing was a luxury.
