"Miss Wan, you are so thin, it pains one's heart to see. Eat some more!" He himself ate very little, yet he continued to care for her with the serving chopsticks from time to time. His smile, so gentle and pure, made it impossible for Sang Wan to utter any words of refusal.
After the meal, Zhao Qi lingered and wouldn't leave, staying with her for a while. Only when he saw that she had taken her medicine and hinted at wanting to bathe and rest did he leave, reluctantly and with great attachment.
In the evening, lying on the unfamiliar, soft brocade couch, looking at the faint moonlight seeping through onto the carpet in front of the bed, Sang Wan's eyes gradually moistened, her nose turned sour, and tears unknowingly started to trickle from her eyes. The moment she closed her eyes, a large, sparkling teardrop swiftly rolled down from the corner of her eye, falling onto the jujube-red embroidered pillow.
