Ling Momo thought of the pills Li Qingshen had secretly thrown away yesterday and couldn't help but pout, muttering to herself, "Such a grown man, yet acting like a child and secretly tossing out his medicine! Now you're sick again, satisfied now?"
Li Qingshen was deep in a coma and naturally wouldn't pay any attention to Ling Momo. After she talked to herself for a while, she replaced the towel on his forehead with a new one.
Last night, Ling Momo was exhausted from Enson's torment and felt tired today, so she lay down beside the bed. Her large eyes wandered around Li Qingshen's room and finally, upon laying sight on the person on the sickbed, her gaze involuntarily trembled and rested on his face.
Li Qingshen, asleep, had long, silent eyelashes that looked serene.
The usual distant and lofty expression had faded from his brows, leaving behind a beautiful and pure outline, quietly stunning.
