Yueyao blinked slowly, her gaze dull and unfocused, "Aunt Mei…"
"Young Madam… how are you feeling?" Aunt Mei asked softly, her voice shaking, "Does it still hurt? I brought you some millet porridge. You have lost too much blood, and your stomach is empty from surgery. Please… eat a little to regain your strength."
Yueyao stared blankly at the ceiling, her lips parting soundlessly before she shook her head ever so slightly, "I'm… not hungry."
Aunt Mei's chest tightened at the deadness in her voice. She lowered herself to sit on the edge of the hospital bed, her old joints aching with the movement.
Carefully, she lifted Yueyao's limp hand into her own, rubbing it gently between her palms to warm her cold fingers.
"Young Madam… you need to eat. Your body is so weak already. The doctor said your stomach is inflamed… and now, after surgery… if you don't take care of yourself, how will you recover?"
