Darkness, pain, spreading endlessly without an end.
Yan Xinxin struggled, trying to break free from the man's grip, but was instead held tighter, possessed more deeply.
She couldn't see anything clearly, until a trace of moonlight cast down, and her gaze fell on an impossibly handsome face.
It was that now all-too-familiar expression…
Yan Xinxin woke up exhausted from a deep dream.
She slowly opened her weary eyes, her eye sockets still crimson and powerless.
As she recalled what had happened before she fell unconscious, a layer of mist quickly clouded her vision.
She closed her eyes, let out a faint, self-mocking laugh, and a tear slid down the corner of her eye.
"You're awake?"
A certain person's low, pleasant voice suddenly came to her ears.
She felt her right hand being tightly clasped by a warm palm.
Yan Xinxin opened her eyes, her water-filled gaze blurred, and the worriedly handsome face of Mo Chuxi came into view.
"How do you feel?"
He asked softly.
