Three days later
Mo Qian entered the hospital room with a bouquet of baby's breath, replacing the flowers in the vase. He then walked to the window and drew the curtains aside, allowing the warm morning sunlight to pour over the windowsill.
"Good morning, Mrs. Gu." He approached the bed, lowered himself, and pressed a kiss on the woman's pale, smooth forehead, his voice soft and deep as he spoke.
His dark, profound eyes quietly studied her for a long moment before he picked up a book with a pink cover from the bedside table and sat by her side, reading aloud from its pages.
This was a book he'd found by her bedside at home.
The story within was warm and touching, depicting a love between a man and a woman without misunderstandings or separations—only the steady course of ordinary days, filled with mutual embraces and affection, warm and sweet.
Just like the promise he had once made to her.
