Her body inexplicably withered away, declined, and they couldn't even determine the cause of her illness.
No one could understand the fear in his heart.
Ya Shitian hugged her, his tone filled with pleading, "Anqi, please don't do this for me, okay?"
Ye Anqi's heart clenched fiercely.
He rarely called her that.
The two syllables "Anqi," when he spoke them, sounded very pleasant, very touching.
"Ya Shitian, you know that no matter what you say, it's useless. Let's not waste time. I don't want to suffer for a lifetime."
"..."
"I'm happy I could save Ye Rumeng. Don't you want me to be happy?"
"..."
"If it were you who were ill, I would willingly give all my blood for you. I think if I were the one sick, you would certainly be willing, too. Now, I'm only giving a part because she is my sister."
Ya Shitian eventually compromised.
After Ye Anqi had a bag of blood drawn, she fell into a coma.
Her body was really in poor shape.
