Lin Zhiyi came back to her senses and, with the help of Liu He and the nurse, had changed into a clean set of clothes.
Even the fresh blood on her head had been washed away.
Her half-dry hair hung over her cheeks, portraying a shattered sense of beauty, but her eyes were completely lifeless.
Like a marionette being pulled by strings.
Li Huan was bowing his head, carefully clipping away the curled dead skin when he saw her fingers twitch and immediately spoke to comfort her, "It will be over soon, just bear with it a little."
Lin Zhiyi numbly nodded, then changed the topic to ask, "How is Song Wanqiu?"
"She had a miscarriage and lost a lot of blood, but she's fine now," Li Huan said with difficulty.
At those words, Lin Zhiyi clenched her teeth tightly, her hands gripping the edge of the bed firmly, first nodding then shaking her head.
"I didn't push her."
Li Huan looked up in surprise, seeing the ash-grey in her eyes and couldn't help but feel pity.
"Actually..."