Shen Yanchen caught her fainted body, holding her in his arms. As he gazed at her pale, bloodless face, his heart was full of pain.
As long as it could save him, would she be willing to drain all the blood from her own body for him? Is he that important to her?
He brought her home and called Aunt Yang. It was already past eleven when Aunt Yang helped her change and clean up.
Aunt Yang came out hurriedly and asked, "Young Master, what happened? Miss has a lot of bruises on her body, but no wounds. Whose blood is this? Are you hurt?"
Shen Yanchen shook his head and repeated, "Bruises?"
"Yes, they're everywhere."
"Go get some rest, then buy some medicinal ingredients to make chicken soup for blood nourishment by noon tomorrow."
"Okay, Young Master, you should rest early too, you look very tired."
Shen Yanchen nodded perfunctorily, pushed the door open, and walked inside.
She lay quietly on the large bed, the blood on her face had been wiped clean, but her lips were still pale.
