V111

  Time flies, another month has passed, UK, hospital.

  The smell of disinfectant is everywhere, abnormally pungent.

  The ward was a sea of white: white ceiling, white walls, and white beds filled the room that reeked of disinfectant.

  A nurse walked in, injected a white medicine into the intravenous drip, took the patient's temperature with a thermometer, and walked out expressionlessly.

  After a long time, a man stepped into the ward. The man was dressed in an all-white suit, cut to the most sharp outline, with fair skin and a blood-red mole at the end of his eyebrow that emitted a strange glow as he entered the ward.

  Bai Yi spent an entire month searching before finding this place.

  He invited seven or eight detectives, spent a lot of manpower and material resources, across three national borders, finally let him see the Lu Yiheng in Nie Zhiyan's mouth.

  But it was in such a place, at such a scene, with him like this.

  He walked over, the sound of his shiny leather shoes treading on the ground was inexplicably jarring.

  The man lay in bed, his face as white as a sheet with no hint of blood color, as if he had already died.

  In the ward, all was quiet except for the sound of breathing.

  "Lu, Yi, Heng, ah, I never thought our first meeting would be like this. Do you know that in this world, there is still a Nie Zhiyan who is half alive and half dead?"

  "Lu Yiheng, your wife has fallen ill. She thinks you're still alive and keeps seeing your ghost. Get up and tell her whether you're dead or not, okay?"

  "You've been lying there like this, perhaps by the time you finally wake up, the girl who has been waiting for seven whole years will have died in her own delusions."

  In the intravenous tube, a crystal clear drop fell down one by one, as if life was slowly slipping away bit by bit. His voice was like a magnetic shock that transmitted into that person's eardrum.

  With earth-shattering power.

  "Lu Yiheng, Nie Ziyu is about to die."

  A gentle breeze blew in through the open window, and in the room, the light and shadow were sparse. The white curtain turned around, and the thin figure gradually faded away. On the sickbed, that person's fingers actually trembled slightly.

  China, a city.

  Nie Zhiyan had no idea how long it had been since Lu Yiheng left, she didn't dare to think about what day it was, what date it was, or what the weather was like that day.

  Her life went on, but everything seemed to be slowly drifting away. The scenery that fell into her eyes, the sounds that entered her eardrums, and the smells that wafted into her nostrils - all of these senses were inexplicably fading away bit by bit.

  Along with her degenerating body, went her life.

  She sat on the high platform, next to where Lu Yiheng was sitting at that time, and she had an illusion that he was just beside her.

  After a long time, the pale man got off the car and stepped up to the stairs, standing beside her and asking: "Yanyan, are you waiting for death with this look?"

  Is that so? Is he waiting for death? She used all sorts of excuses to deceive Lu Yiheng's parents about his accident, but she couldn't deceive herself.

  She looked at him and said: "Xiaobai, I'm so tired, you know? I'm really exhausted."

  Before, when he wasn't by her side, at least she knew he was still alive, in some corner of the world with the same breath and heartbeat as hers, expecting that one day, perhaps, he would stand before her and call out to her, but now, she didn't know what else she could expect.