Perhaps having noticed something, Liu Yi gradually fell silent as well. Besides bringing her meals every day, the thing he did most was to sit by the window in her room, looking out.
Her eyes, with care, gradually became able to discern a bit of light, but it always seemed as though a thin veil covered her sight, making everything appear blurry.
Death wasn't something difficult for her to accept, and perhaps it was something she had longed for. However, the illness left her without even the strength to catch her breath.
She was drowsy all day, her memory coming and going intermittently, and sometimes she couldn't even recognize who was standing by her bed.
Such days were unbearable for her.
She wasn't afraid of dying, just afraid of living in such disgrace.
"Momy, I made carp noodle soup today. Let me feed you some."
Liu Yi carefully sat by Mingxing's bedside with a tray and spoke softly.
