f he was lying in an ocean of ice and fire, two extreme feelings pulling hard on his nerves, one on the left and one on the right.

In a daze, it seemed that someone put a handkerchief soaked in hot water on his forehead.

He tried very hard to open his eyes but it was a pity that after so much effort, he ended up just squinting them into slits; he couldn’t see who the person in front of his bed was, only that the person had been busy at his bedside.

He stared straight at the person.

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After a while, the man noticed his gaze, stopped his hands and approached cautiously: “Young Master Wen, are you okay?”

It was Zuo Zhi’s voice.

For some reason, after learning that the person in front of the bed was Zuo Zhi, a faint sense of loss rippled in Wen Chi’s heart.
Fortunately, this feeling of loss soon disappeared.

Wen Chi felt a bitterness in his throat, so he moved his lips, “I want to drink water.”


“Young master, wait a moment,” Zuo Zhi ran away after saying this and came back after a while.
She sat on the side of the bed, helped Wen Chi up with one hand and handed the edge of the teacup to Wen Chi’s lips, “Young master, be careful!”

After taking a few sips, Wen Chi couldn’t drink any more and shook his head slightly.

Zuo Zhi supported Wen Chi with one hand to lie down on the bed again.

Wen Chi turned his head to look at Zuo Zhi’s figure guarding the bed and suddenly remembered the things he planned to ask Zuo Zhi last night.
He wanted to take advantage of this moment to ask but his voice was too dry, not only was it hoarse and unpleasant but it was also hard to speak.

In desperation, Wen Chi had no choice but to give up this idea, close his eyes, and take a good rest.


Wen Chi slept all day before waking up but he didn’t wake up naturally, but was woken up by Ruo Fang.

Ruo Fang was holding a medicine bowl in her hand, which contained decocted medicine.
She squatted down in front of Wen Chi’s bed and said softly, “Young Master, you haven’t eaten all day, so drink up the medicine first then eat something.”

Wen Chi was very uncomfortable, just being helped up by Zuo Zhi to sit on the head of the bed made him feel light-headed, and the candlelight in front of him swirled in circles.

He had no appetite, much less a desire to eat, but the medicine still had to be drunk.

So he took the medicine bowl from Ruo Fang’s hand and drank it bit by bit.

The medicine was bitter and astringent and more unpalatable than any Traditional Chinese medicine Wen Chi had ever drunk before.
While he drank he almost retched.
It took him about a cup of tea1(15min) to barely drink half of the bowl.

He glanced at the dark concoction in the bowl, the swaying water pattern reflected his pale face.
He swallowed the bitterness in his mouth with great difficulty before he could drink no more.

“I don’t want to drink anymore,” Wen Chi handed the medicine bowl to Ruo Fang, “You take it away.”




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