After saying those words, perhaps to reassure Mu Shengfeng, Chi Yunxi gave a smile and turned to leave.
His heart felt like it was submerged in a jar of pickles, both sour and swollen. Mu Shengfeng stood by the window for quite a while before slowly returning to the bed while leaning on the table and chair by the windowsill.
With no one to assist him, when Mu Shengfeng used both hands to brace the rail and lay back on the bed, he even felt as though his wound was tearing apart.
Such a minor pain would have been nothing to the usual Mu Shengfeng, but today, he actually found it somewhat unbearable and frowned.
Until before dinner, Chi Yunxi did not appear, and Mu Shengfeng's gaze remained fixed on the direction of the door. Every time he heard footsteps, he'd quickly avert his eyes, but after a long time without any movement, his eyes were full of loneliness and bitterness.
