The arched bridge was only a few meters from the private residence, but Shang Yu hesitated to approach.
A sea of flowers separated them, the path dimly lit yet filled with the rich fragrance of blossoms.
Li Qiao supported herself with one hand on the door frame, clutching an ice pack in the other. She didn't know what the man was hesitating about, sighed silently, and slowly moved forward again.
There weren't many steps, but she struggled to climb them.
Just a few hours since regaining consciousness, Li Qiao still couldn't move freely.
The feeling of walking on cotton made her frown tightly. After a few steps, with no support around her, Li Qiao swayed as if a gust of wind could blow her away.
At this moment, the man, after much hesitation, finally moved.
He stepped forward with an almost urgent speed, getting faster and faster.
Li Qiao concentrated on the road beneath her feet, her heavy steps slowing down more and more.
