Sniffle. Sniffle.
The first sense to return from the state of unconsciousness is usually hearing. And it seemed they were not wrong.
Liu Mingyun's lips twitched, fatigue rolling off his person in waves. Minutely, he tried to move his hands, and failed.
Then, the barely conscious man tried to speak, or even just make a sound.
Failure, yet again.
Though his senses returned one after the other, the ability to move still impaired, however, Liu Mingyun heard someone sniffling by his side.
From the sound of it, he could conjecture the person striving hard to keep their tears at bay.
Distantly, he entertained the idea of them being Li Xinyuan. But that seemed too far-fetched of a wish.
He was at war—
Oh.
Liu Mingyun's hand twitched, throat bobbing in effort to speak.
Where was he?
The room around him reeked of one too many medicinal herbs. The scent of them was overwhelming.
The last he could remember, the Crown Prince had been flung down from a cliff.
