As night fell, the entire villa was so silent you could hear a pin drop, a silent sorrow spreading through it.
Yun Ya carried the freshly brewed medicine to the door of Zhuang Xiyue's room. After hesitating for a moment, she knocked on the door.
"Aunt Zhuang, may I come in?"
After a brief silence, Zhuang Xiyue's weak and hoarse voice came from inside: "Come in."
Yun Ya pushed the door open and entered.
The room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp. Zhuang Xiyue lay in bed, while Yan Nanmo was sitting on a sofa not far away, reviewing documents. When he saw Yun Ya come in, he nodded at her amidst his busy schedule, then lowered his head again to bury himself in the intricate work.
Zhuang Xiyue's face appeared particularly pale under the lamp, her eyes red and swollen. As Yun Ya came in, she tried to prop herself up, but Yan Nanmo quickly dropped the documents, hurried over in two strides, and held Zhuang Xiyue's body in his arms, frowning as he said, "Lie down, don't move."
