Yang Xiaohua’s eyes were blank, staring into a void as deep and hollow as a bottomless, dried-up well, devoid of any flickering light of life or hope. Her complexion was as pale as paper, her lips chapped and bloodless, and loose strands of hair lay messily against the pillow. She looked utterly haggard, as if every ounce of her vitality had been drained away.
Zhao Shuzhuo watched her, his brow furrowed. He knew clearly that she was mired in a swamp of despair, unable to pull herself free. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke in a voice as soft as a gentle spring breeze, trying to awaken some flicker of the desire to live deep within her:
"Xiaohua, do you have any close friends? I can call one of them to come and keep you company."
Chapter 576