Pain.
Heartbreaking pain.
It was as if someone had stabbed a red-hot iron into her temple, and then stirred it wildly.
Su Qingyan opened her eyes suddenly.
What comes into view is neither a familiar laboratory nor sterile white walls. It was a few dark beams with crumbling spider webs hanging on them. Gray skylight filtered through the gaps in the thatched roof.
A smell of moisture mixed with dirt and mold entered her nostrils.
Where is this?
She pushed herself up and tried to sit up, but the hard wooden bed beneath her made her bones ache. My whole body was sore and weak, and I couldn't lift up any strength.
Turning her eyes, she froze.
There was another person lying on this old wooden bed.
A man.
A tall man, now like a dead tree, lying lifeless. His face was as white as paper, and his lips were chapped and peeled, and he was pursed tightly. A fine line of cold sweat covered his forehead and soaked his temples.
The quilt only covered his chest, and the trouser legs underneath... No, those weren't considered trouser legs at all. The right trouser leg was cut off completely, revealing a miserable calf.
