The morning sunlight, warm and gentle, spilled into the inner chamber, illuminating Xiang Yun's pale and thin little face.
When Mo Zili's gaze drifted over her little face, he froze for a moment, his eyes lingering on her sleeping visage and did not move away for a long time.
He had known Xiang Yun since they were children, practically childhood sweethearts. In his memory, she had always been a lively maiden with baby fat and a rosy complexion. When did she become so thin and pale? And her sleeping face, although peaceful like a child's, had two delicate brows furrowed together…
It was clear that she was not doing well, not happy, her pallor dull and diminished, her pointed chin standing out, even in sleep, her brows knitted, a look of heavy thoughts…
A wave of guilt washed over Mo Zili's heart—he knew all too well why she was like this.
