In the dead of night, the world silent and still, Fengyu stayed by Xie Xun's side without the slightest hint of sleepiness. She held onto that pair of fair, soft hands, hands devoid of even the faintest calluses.
Raised with tender care, untainted by the touch of spring water—those were her hands.
Now "she" lay in bed, her face pale and bloodless. She looked even weaker and more fragile than when she had jumped off the cliff. The body she thought she had nurtured back to health in the West State was still less resilient than she'd hoped; her fleeting health was like a bloom that lasted but a moment.
