Isabella Weaver felt as if she had been asleep for a century.
In her dream, sometimes it was a scorching sea of fire, sometimes an icy deep ocean, and sometimes a man covered in blood. She drifted in pain, unable to wake up.
That day, she heard someone speaking in a strange dialect, pouring medicine into her mouth.
What kind of medicine is this!
It's too bitter!
Her life was already bitter enough, why did she still have to drink such bitter medicine in her dreams!
She didn't want to drink it!
However, her mouth was forced open, and the bitter medicine, which made her shiver, was poured in sip by sip, leaving her no choice but to swallow it.
The bitterness seeped into her soul, brutally waking her up.
"Cough cough cough!"
She choked and opened her eyes.
The person feeding her the medicine was overjoyed, "Awake, awake!"
Isabella understood that sentence.
"Wow#%*##*&..."
After that, she couldn't understand a word.
