Yan Ye's eyes moved slightly.
Feeling a bit weak, he raised his hand to rub his brow and asked hoarsely, "What happened to me?"
The past day felt as if he hadn't truly existed in this world.
This question startled Father Yan, turning his face pale.
"You caught a cold! Ever since coming back from Yingying's hometown, you've been silent, and then you got sick. You forgot? Heaven! Could it be that you're possessed, under some evil spell?" As Father Yan spoke, he broke out in goosebumps.
His son seemed very unreal at that moment.
Yan Ye's gaze was slightly dazed, carrying a vulnerability unusual to him in its softness.
At this moment, he was utterly non-threatening.
"I'm not possessed." Yan Ye quickly remembered what had happened, and he said word by word, "I remember now."
Father Yan breathed a sigh of relief: "Hmm, what happened when you went to Yingying's hometown? How did you end up sick? You don't usually get sick easily."
Indeed, Yan Ye rarely fell ill.
