The seeds of hatred, nourished over the years, have long taken root in her heart, growing into towering trees, their roots deeply embedded in her bones and blood, tormenting and reminding her day and night, unable to let go, only slaughter can bring peace.
This path is destined to be lonely, she has no way back.
"Don't think too much now, taking care of your health is the priority. This congenital heart disease is not untreatable; as long as you take good care of yourself, living to a hundred or eighty years is not a problem. In any case, with your master here, he won't let you die."
Zhang Huasheng raised his hand to tuck her in, speaking earnestly.
Yun Ya was well aware that such an illness was incurable by medical means. Maybe one day, she'd just never wake up again. She had to avoid emotional agitation, depression, like a sword hanging over her head at all times, not knowing when it would fall...
She looked at her own hands, soft, elegant, and beautiful like a work of art.
