Upon entering, Han Yingying saw Ye Haofan half-sitting on the bed, eyes fixed straight on the door.
Seeing her come in, Ye Haofan seemed to visibly heave a sigh of relief, raising his hand with the IV drip and making an effort to gesture, "Come here."
Han Yingying walked over slowly, her expression unchanged.
He took Han Yingying by the hand and had her sit beside the bed, his hand tracing along her brows and eyes, slowly sliding down her face, from forehead to chin, delicately caressing her, and only after he was completely sure she was unharmed did Ye Haofan let out a faint smile.
The slight action of curving his lips seemed to cause pain in the wounds on his face, and his brow furrowed.
"Lie down," Han Yingying's voice was equally hoarse and unpleasant.
Ye Haofan obediently lay down, no longer speaking, and even stopped looking at Han Yingying as if he had fallen asleep.
"Miss Han, your phone." The butler passed the phone to Han Yingying with impatience.
