The effects of public relations were minimal; basically, everyone was waiting for her to make a statement.
Wen Xian felt unbearably uncomfortable.
She was weak all over, her head was heavy, and her throat swollen and painful.
The general discomfort brought about by the fever was one thing, but every part of her body ached as well.
In her haze, Wen Xian seemed to even start hallucinating.
She was jostled continuously, her shoulder blades repeatedly slammed against the car door frame.
It hurt so much.
The rain seemed to pour heavily, almost engulfing her entirely.
Breathing became difficult.
"...Lu Xiao..."
She murmured weakly.
The voice was soft, yet so frail, and it carried an undertone of pleading.
As Jin Ling paced anxiously around the room, suddenly, a sound came from the bed, and her gaze snapped over to it.
At the same time.
Hurried and urgent footsteps also came quickly from the corridor outside the door.
Heading straight for their room.