Rong Jincheng wiped the water from her body, wrapped her in a sky blue satin pajamas, and placed her on the big bed.

She was like a doll, at the mercy of Rong Jincheng, motionless, with her eyelids drooping and her eyes were dull.

Rong Jincheng sat cross-legged beside the bed with fruit, and fed an apple for her: "Come on, take a bite, it's delicious, I've tried it."

"Not to eat." She didn't open her eyes, leaned against the pillow, holding the quilt insecure.

"You haven't eaten today. I cut this plate of fruit with my own hands. Wouldn't you give me some face?" Rong Jincheng didn't know where the patience came from, so he coaxed him.

Han Yurou's face was as pale as paper. She didn't even have the strength to shake her head. She was like a whisper: "Let me sleep, I want to sleep and keep going. If I can't wake up, it's great."

Rong Jincheng's face was a little uncomfortable: "You are too tired. You have been exhausted these days. If you really want to sleep, you will go to bed. The sun will come out at dawn."

"Maybe." She murmured softly, keeping her eyes closed, pressing her head between the quilt and the pillow.

Rong Jincheng suddenly felt powerless, so he had to put the fruit on the cabinet at the bedside and sit by the bed for a while.

He looked down at her face, and she seemed very uncomfortable, curled up in a ball, like a little hedgehog, pitiful.

He reached out and touched her forehead without a fever.

He knew that Han Yun's funeral was all about her and her mother, and she hadn't had a stable sleep for several days.

Rong Jincheng stood up, turned off the bedroom light for her, and walked out.

He had some signs of a cold, so he quickly took a few cold medicines and sat alone on the wide balcony, drinking red wine and looking at the night view outside the window.

Jinyuan has a very good scenery. Because it rains, there is hazy white fog around it, as if it is covered with a layer of white veil.

Rong Jincheng sat lazily and casually on the balcony carpet, and he didn't know what he was looking at.

He is not a person who likes to see the scenery. He feels boring, but now he becomes like Han Yurou, sitting alone at the window to see the scenery.

The phone rings on the phone.

It was all called by his friends.

Rong Jincheng was too lazy to answer, so he simply turned off his phone.

Sitting at the window, the whole space was extremely quiet, and countless judgments flashed through his mind, from childhood to now.

When he was very young, before he was five years old, his memory was no longer very clear, and the only thing he remembered was "poverty" and "hardship".

He was taken away by Rong Jianguo after he was five years old. He had forgotten the memories before he was five years old, and the only thing he had not forgotten was the humiliation his mother had suffered.

Only him, his mother and Han Yun knew about this.

And now, he is the only person in this world who knows, and he doesn't want more people to know.

Han Yun died so easily. Once he died, he took everything away. Whether it was hatred or sadness, it seemed that all of this was gone all at once.

Rong Jincheng drank several glasses of red wine in succession. Slowly, the alcohol came up and he became drunk.

When he was drunk, he walked upstairs with his slippers and held the wall, touched the soft big bed in the bedroom, and hugged Han Yurou and fell asleep.

He is also very tired.

Many things suddenly ended.

Doesn’t end mean relaxation? But his body is very heavy.

The drizzle is drizzling.
Chapter completed!