All three people in the hospital room turned toward the door at once.
Fu Hanchuan stood in the doorway, his black hair disheveled, still wearing his suit from a business engagement. His eyes swept past them and fixed on the person in the hospital bed, the gloom radiating from him almost tangible.
A ghost...
The word flashed through all three of their minds.
The apple in Shen Huainan's hand fell toward the floor. He froze for two seconds before his body reacted instinctively, and he scrambled to pull the curtain around the bed.
His face dark, Fu Hanchuan strode toward the bed.
Wan Haihui, who was sitting by the door, shot up and moved to stop him. "Hanchuan! Wait!"
Fu Hanchuan shoved him aside.
Shen Huainan was about to speak, but Fu Hanchuan's icy gaze frightened him into stepping out of the way.
Fu Hanchuan walked to the bedside, step by step.
The person on the bed lay unconscious, his head tilted to one side. His long eyelashes cast shadows beneath his eyes, loose strands of hair lay scattered beside his face, and the wound on his lip had already scabbed over.
Dense kiss marks spread down from his half-open collar. His face was so pale it was almost translucent, and traces of fear still lingered in his delicate features.
Fu Hanchuan bent slightly and reached out to lift the thin blanket covering Wen Yanyu.
His hand moved down, gently unbuttoning the hospital gown the staff had changed him into, exposing the skin below his shoulders and collarbones.
His fair skin was covered in mottled bite marks and fingerprints, blue and purple, suggestive and intimate.
His gaze moved lower...
Fu Hanchuan stared at the hideous wound across Wen Yanyu's waist and abdomen, which had appeared at some unknown point and