The sun was shining brightly in Peak City in June, and the cool sea breeze carried the sound of the sea tide.
Tang Ling awoke from her stupor, and the faces that came into view were both familiar and strange—a middle-aged couple who hadn't closed their eyes in who knows how long, their faces full of fatigue and bloodshot eyes.
"Dad, Mom?"
She hadn't seen this couple for many years, her expression somewhat dazed, as if in a different lifetime.
"Finally awake, thank heavens."
Tang Zixuan seemed incredulous as he tightly gripped his daughter's hands, pressing them to his heart, his voice trembling: "Seven days, a full seven days! We all thought you would never wake up again... It's good you're awake, it's good you're awake! Heaven has eyes and did not take you away from us."
This old man choked with emotion, tears streaming down his face.
Xu Xiu gently touched her daughter's face, then covered her mouth, weeping tears of joy.
