Before then, Yan Xiaye had never thought that she would hope for Shen Aili to stay.
Despite the favorable situation, she stopped herself mid-sentence, gazing at Shen Aili's affected pose, and reluctantly shuffled to Li Beicheng's hospital bed. She looked towards the ground, as if beautiful, exotic flowers were growing there, too captivating to look away from.
"Come here." Li Beicheng wasn't willing to let her stand there like a block of wood, actively stretching his arm to pull her, forcibly making her sit by his bedside unwillingly. He looked up at her delicate, haggard face, feeling a sudden concern, "Did the exam tire you out? Why does your face look even worse than mine, the patient?"
"Right …" Yan Xiaye responded noncommittally, deciding not to look at Li Beicheng's face. Her gaze fluttered to her own toes, "Your mother said to look after you until you're discharged. Do you have anything you need to pack?"