The white ceiling, the white walls, Du Xixi raised her hand and looked, only to feel that her usually porcelain-white skin was, today, as white as deathly ash, completely bloodless.
Her strength had returned, and the Purification Talent within her was at work; she could feel her body gradually warming up, yet the discomfort in her heart lingered, refusing to dissipate.
Du Xixi bit her lower lip lightly, struggling a bit to sit up, when a large hand carefully supported her arm and shoulder. When Du Xixi looked, it was the somewhat haggard face of Chen Yin.
"Xixi?" Chen Yin supported Du Xixi, and without needing to say much, Rob, standing by, had already consciously raised the bed's backboard, allowing Du Xixi to lean back with ease.
