Spirit-Awakening Pill

Ou Yan lay flat on the bed, her cloudlike black hair partly veiling her face. Her cheeks had grown so thin they seemed stretched over bone, yet her skin remained flawlessly pale. Her narrow eyes were tightly shut, their sunken sockets plainly the result of worry. Yet those deep hollows made her jet-black lashes stand out all the more, seeming even longer; against her fair skin, they gave rise to another kind of sickly beauty.

Looking at this face, so utterly different from the one in his memories, Zhang Xiaohua's eyes could not help growing moist. Yes, she was a woman exalted above others, the blood sister of a gang leader and the mistress of an estate, yet she had been so approachable and kind. When she met Zhang Xiaohua, who had just come from the countryside, she had shown neither contempt nor disdain, nor kept her distance. Instead, she had treated him equally, even lending him the herb books she had read. That impartial gaze, neither overly intimate nor aloof, had brought comfort to Zhang Xiaohua's faintly self-conscious heart. Like Qiutong, she had given him emotions akin to a mother's love.

"How is Miss?" Qiutong asked anxiously when she saw Zhang Xiaohua lost in thought.

Zhang Xiaohua came back to himself and forced a smile. "Don't worry, Sister Qiutong. I'll use every bit of strength I have to cure Sister Ou."

"Ah..." Hearing him speak so, Qiutong seemed to detect the uncertainty beneath his words. She let out a long breath and said nothing more.

Zhang Xiaohua looked around, picked up an ordinary stool beside him, and sat at the bedside. Squinting, he carefully studied Ou Yan's face. He had only given it a cursory glance earlier, but now that he looked closely, he saw a faint layer of