Chi Yu's sleep was far from restful.
The foreign land and unfamiliar bed made it impossible for her to truly drift into slumber.
In her haze, she felt a scorching gaze on her face, so intense it seemed to burn.
Nightmares plagued her, cycling through unpleasant memories from the past like a relentless storm.
Unconsciously, her brows furrowed tightly, her expression painted with pain.
In the dimness, a warm, dry hand gently smoothed the creases on her forehead, over and over again.
Only when the smooth skin regained its calm did the hand pause.
A soft sigh echoed, filled with either regret or something indescribable.
The next morning, Chi Yu woke up to a throat dry and raw, her body aching and weak.
Touching her forehead, she realized it was hot—she had a fever.
Dragging her weary frame out of bed, she thought of finding some fever medicine.
Otherwise, in her current state, she might not be able to attend the wedding.
