Bo Yeyuan struggled several times, finally moved his body to lie on one side, breaking out in a cold sweat all over.
Li Qiyu, feeling the strength in her body wane, sighed with relief and took out a thermometer, placing it beside his lips, "Can you hear me talking? Bite down on this."
"...Yes." Bo Yeyuan felt heavy, as if plunging into an endless abyss, yet he dared not miss the sound of her voice.
It was fuzzy, as if coming from the edge of the sky, very soft and gentle; he liked her voice. That year when she wasn't there, he would repeatedly watch the videos he had made for her, never tiring of listening to her sweet healing voice, instantly brightening his mood, making him momentarily forget all sorrow.
The gentle caress of Li Qiyu's hands on his forehead felt soothing, and he wished for it to continue without end.
When she withdrew her hand, he lifted his arm, bringing her hand back to his forehead.
