Bao Jingyan had arranged everything, and the night was deep.
He stood on the balcony, smoking.
The pain in his body paled in comparison to the pain of missing her.
Ruanruan thought he had died; she must be in torment physically and emotionally, yet he believed she would carry on well.
Because she couldn't let go of the beloved young maid.
Bao Jingyan's dark eyes gazed toward the south, filled with agony.
*
Yangcheng.
A quaint courtyard, a bedroom both rustic and luxurious.
Su Ruanruan was still in a coma, lying on the big bed, dressed by servants.
He Jitang had been injured on his shoulder and had the doctor bandage it.
He, in a white shirt, looked noble and refined, without a trace of viciousness.
He kept watch beside the bed, responding indifferently whenever someone came to speak with him.
Su Ruanruan regained consciousness a day later.
She dreamed countless times of the explosion and called out Bao Jingyan's name even in her stupor.
