Half a month later, the weather cleared up. It was still cold, but compared to before, there were signs of warming.
Ever since that night, Wei Zhao had become especially carefree.
Yu Tingwan had just finished brewing medicine and brought it out from the kitchen, only to see Wei Zhao standing by the window.
From taking medicine these past few days, his complexion gained some color and he looked much better. However, because of the acupuncture treatments, he endured a lot of pain and had no appetite to eat all day.
The wind blew, lifting Wei Zhao's loose hair. He stood there cold and aloof, having lost a lot of weight.
Yet, he was able to get out of bed.
Even though he couldn't stand for too long, and walked unsteadily.
Yu Tingwan frowned, just about to say it was cold and he should go back to bed, when a crow flew in from outside, circled around in the air, and then flew toward Wei Zhao.
It landed steadily.
