Of course, aside from the weak sounds of breathing, he couldn't get any response.
The storm outside continued, with thunder and lightning crossing through the glass, preventing the white room from being terrifyingly silent.
Mu Jin Huan turned off the incandescent light on the ceiling, leaving only a small wall lamp lit, enough to illuminate.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone at home," his hoarse voice murmured almost inaudibly, as his long fingers tenderly brushed away the strands of hair stuck to the woman's cheek, moving gently, as if afraid that a little force might hurt the paper-like person.
Suddenly, the red mark on Nan Wan's slightly swollen left cheek came into his sight, and his rough fingertip paused.
It was scratched by Zhao Ying's long nails, and Mu Jin Huan hadn't noticed it before, covered as it was by wet hair.
