Leng Youchen woke up with a splitting headache. He kept his eyes closed and instinctively leaned toward the presence beside him, saying, "Wife, my head hurts." He reached out to touch her, but his hand landed on the cold sheets, making him abruptly open his eyes.
Seeing the empty spot on the other side of the bed, he immediately remembered—his wife was in the hospital!
His heart felt hollow and icy. Sitting there in defeat, he found it hard to breathe, his chest filled with a dull ache.
He sat there stiffly for a moment before throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pressing a button on the remote. The curtains slowly opened, letting the morning sunlight spill in, casting a golden glow all around him.
Lowering his gaze, he saw the colorful windmills in the garden below, spinning gently in the morning breeze.
