After he left, they opened the door and walked in, and began to tidy up the room in an orderly manner. One of them brought a basin of hot water and wiped Jiang Zimo's bruised body.
The warm milk poured into her mouth, and soon she spit it out.
Jiang Zimo fell softly on the bed and curled up her body as hard as she could. She closed her eyes tightly and refused to think about anything.
But those painful scenes kept flashing before her eyes, and she began to tear her hair in pain, whimpering like a little animal.
The servant was at a loss, and in the end she could only leave one person indoors to watch her, while the other person seemed to have gone out to make a phone call.
Sleeping in the dark, she felt that life was truly worse than death.
Now, even her last glimmer of hope has been shattered. What's left is endless disappointment and resentment for her short life.
However, she didn't even know who she should resent.
Bai Yanbing? Murong Qingyi? Murong Yuanhong? Or Yao Yuhan?
It seems to be both, and it seems to be neither.
She struggled hard in a chaotic life, always wandering between hope and despair.
She's had enough.
The humiliation Murong Qingzhen gave her today shattered the only extravagant hope for a beautiful emotion in her heart.
Her inner world collapsed.
Silent tears wet the silk pillow under her cheeks, and the blood on her lips bloomed into charming flowers on the white silk fabric.
In the middle of the night, Jiang Zimo started to vomit, her whole body was hot, and she kept rolling around on the bed.
The servant came in to check on her condition and saw that she was covered in vomit, so they helped her to the bathroom to be cleaned.
Jiang Zimo almost no longer had the strength to stand upright under the shower. The effect of the medicine made her whole body weak. The previous crying in the dark and the complete venting of her bursting emotions took all her strength, and she knelt down in the bathtub.
Inside, if it weren't for the help of a servant, she would have fallen into the standing water in the bathtub.
The warm water rushed over her body, and she knelt there motionless. She was punishing herself and mourning her lost soul.
When Murong Qingzhen arrived, her limbs were numb, her lips had lost their original brightness, and her purple lips were unable to close because of trembling.
He waved the servant to leave, walked to the bathtub, bent down, and held her in his arms. Her body was so cold, and she had never been shaking like this in his arms, her arms wrapped around her.
Subconsciously tightening her grip. Turning around, he carried her back to the bedroom. The room was already clean. When he passed the door of the room, he told the bodyguard guarding the door: "Go down and ask someone to make ginger soup and bring it in."
When he returned to the bedroom, the first thing he did was to untie her soaked clothes. But she didn't struggle, her mind was wandering, and her eyes were dull. When Murong Qingzhen did these things, he never looked into her eyes. He directly
He carried her to the bed, pulled the new quilt to cover her body tightly, and then reached out to touch her forehead. It seemed that the temperature was slightly high, and there were almost invisible wrinkles.
Frown.
Only then did she vaguely remember that, yes, he was a doctor of medicine who graduated from Princeton, and his appearance was quite professional.