"As she spoke, the oppressive mountain had already descended—
Mo Lan, who was already feeble, fainted without any consciousness.
...
In her dream, Mo Lan dreamt a dream.
A youth with a bruised and bloodied face lay in the flowerbed, his gaze blankly fixed on the sky.
She approached the flowerbed with a basket of flowers, and immediately noticed him hiding.
"Who are you?" she asked in shock.
"Go away, stay away from me!" the youth coldly responded, without so much as glancing at her.
The kind-hearted her naturally wouldn't leave, "What happened to you? Did you get into a fight?"
"I told you to go away!"
"Hey, I'm trying to show concern for you."
"I don't need it!"
"What kind of tone are you using? Do you know who I am?"
"Go away!"
She turned and walked away, but soon circled back.
She still carried her flower basket, but now it was filled with medicinal ointments for bruises and some delicate pastries.
"Take these, use them when you get back."
