In the early morning, fine snow fluttered outside the window, and thick snow weighed down the branches.
He woke to a surge of intense pain and nausea.
Listening to the heavy, uneven breathing beside his ear, Wen Yanyu barely opened his eyes. Little by little, he moved Fu Hanchuan's arm off his body and slowly shifted down the other side of the bed.
Having barely slept for an entire month, Fu Hanchuan had finally been forced to take sleeping pills before he could fall asleep. After finally drifting off, he had sunk into nightmares again, completely unaware of anything happening beside him.
Wen Yanyu covered his mouth, tucked the covers around the man beside him, and slipped quietly out of bed.
Only after he entered the bathroom and shut the door tight.
Wen Yanyu bent down, about to splash cold water on his face, but a violent wave of nausea made his whole body go weak, and he nearly fell.
Wen Yanyu braced both hands against the edge of the sink, rested his forehead against his forearm, and kept gasping for breath. Keeping his voice down, he vomited a sinkful of black blood. Cold sweat streamed down his body, and the coughing he could no longer suppress echoed intermittently through the bathroom.
After lying in bed without walking for so long, his calves trembled. Wen Yanyu lost his footing and crashed straight to the floor.
The instant his arm struck the tiles, the skin scraped open. Wen Yanyu could not hold back a faint cry of pain, but he soon wilted again, drained of strength.
The tiled floor was cold and hard, hardly comfortable to lie on, but he had no strength at all to get up.
Wen Yanyu simply curled himself into a ball on the floor, pressing his