It was as if she'd fallen into a void, surrounded by a pitch-black darkness.
Suddenly, a point of light appeared.
Her eyelids were sealed shut by a viscous, warm fluid, weighing a thousand pounds, yet they were gently brushed open.
Jiang Qingli struggled to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was a woman's face, drenched in sweat.
The woman's black hair was plastered to her cheeks. Someone was dabbing at her sweat with a handkerchief held in a slender, long-fingered hand, but she only had eyes for Jiang Qingli. She looked down and smiled, her gaze so gentle it seemed to embrace the entire world.
Jiang Qingli's mind was a hazy blank. She only knew to reach out, to grasp. Her gaze fell upon a pair of chubby, segmented baby arms—her own.
She opened her mouth and let out a series of gurgles and coos.
A deep male voice spoke up. "You just gave birth. Don't strain yourself. I'll hold the baby."
Another face squeezed into her field of vision.
