Night gave way to day. Yan Xixi opened her eyes to find that spring had arrived overnight. Outside, the sun shone brightly. Early-blooming begonias swayed in the wind, and birds chirped nearby.
Her eyes widened as she took in the incomparably luxurious bed, top-of-the-line light fixtures, and large sofa. The bedroom was surprisingly large. On the terrace outside, a row of early-blooming roses displayed a myriad of colors: red, white, blue, pink—every shade imaginable.
She sat up, but felt utterly drained of strength. She could only lean against the headboard, her eyes wide as she surveyed her surroundings. The room was eerily silent, as if this vast space were dead, inhabited only by ghosts.
She walked to the door and, upon opening it, saw two uniford maids standing guard outside. One of the maids, looking pleasantly surprised, said, "Miss Yan, you’re finally awake! You’ve been unconscious for several days. Are you feeling better now?"
Yan Xixi stared in confusion at the unfamiliar face.
The maid’s expression was one of utmost respect. "Miss Yan, are you hungry? What would you like to eat? The kitchen has prepared plenty of food suitable for patients. Please wait a mont, it will be ready soon." She then looked at the other maid. "Xiaoliao, bring the food up."
Xiaoliao agreed submissively and left.
Bird’s nest porridge, delicate side dishes, steaming milk... Yan Xixi gazed at it all in confusion. After a long mont, she suddenly asked, "Where’s my mom?"
No one answered. The maid simply offered a humble, ingratiating smile, curtsied, and said, "Miss Yan, you may call Xiaoping."
One was Xiaoping, the other Xiaoliao. Yan Xixi didn’t know them. As if still in a dream, she asked again, "Where’s my mom?"
Xiaoping rely retreated quietly to one side, her professional smile unwavering. She occasionally stole glances at the young woman who, despite her pallor, was exceptionally beautiful, and secretly wondered, Could this woman be ntally ill?
For a whole month, Yan Xixi remained in a semi-conscious state. A doctor visited a few tis, explaining that her condition stemd from extre fatigue, anxiety, and sorrow, but assured her she would recover with a period of recuperation.
During this ti, she saw no one, not even the master of this mansion. She drifted through her days in a stupor, like an ailing bird trapped in a gilded cage.
One brilliantly sunny spring afternoon, she finally managed to stand properly. By then, she had mostly recovered. She took the ti to carefully observe her surroundings, taking in the incredibly vast Sky Garden: rockeries, a fountain, a lush green lawn, and large beds of blooming roses. From the upper floor, she could see far into the distance. What kind of person could afford such opulence in this pri location? she wondered.
However, she still didn’t go downstairs, not until she heard footsteps approaching.
She looked up, and their eyes t.
Wan Donglin almost held his breath. The woman stood beside a cluster of pink roses, her hair like black lacquer, her dress white as snow. A faint blush touched her cheeks, her eyes sparkled. Beside her, the vast expanse of roses suddenly seed to pale in comparison.
His heart pounded; it felt as if every hormone in his body surged to his head. A large hand shot out, pulling her fiercely into his embrace...
Yan Xixi didn’t resist; she had lost the strength to do so. Her body stiffened, but she didn’t struggle.
He had never known a woman’s lips could be so sweet—they were the tenderest buds of May roses, the first wisp of honey gathered by a bee, the first crescent moon rising at dusk, the first dream to intoxicate the heart...
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