Wu Meiying watched as Wu Jian fell asleep with tender eyes. Once he was completely out of it, she reached up and brushed a few sweaty bangs away from his face, which was so pale it was as if all the blood had been drained from it. She had never seen him quite like this before.
I’m torn. I really don’t like it when he’s not feeling well, but I feel this guilty pleasure now that he’s relying on me to take care of him. This must make me a bad girl.
How long had it been since she’d seen him like this? A couple years at least. She almost considered this a treat, but that made her feel bad.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this vulnerable,” Wu Meiying mused to herself.
“What do you mean?” asked Hou Jingshu.