Two days later, dawn had fully broken.
The person lying on the couch finally made a slight movement with his fingertips.
Yuan Shaqing had just opened his eyes, his complexion pale as paper. His whole body was in so much pain he couldn't move, but he remembered a curved knife piercing in, then forcibly thrusting through his back. A slight deviation and it would have pierced his heart. Someone wanted to get rid of him for good.
"Awake?"
A flat, indifferent voice sounded.
He endured the pain and turned his head.
After seeing the person who came, his bloodless lips moved, but no sound came out; still, based on the shape of the lips, two words could be discerned.
——Weizhen.
"Seems you still remember me."
Cui Yun stood up, walked towards him, and stopped in front of the couch.
