Ye Cheng raised his other hand to rub his eyes, trying to wake himself up from sleepiness.
Zimei turned her head towards the direction of his voice, "How long did I sleep?"
Her voice was somewhat weak and hoarse.
Ye Cheng glanced down at his watch. Since he was using only one eye to look at the hands, it took him a few more seconds than usual to read the time: "It's now 7:20 p.m."
Zimei responded softly.
She felt some pain in her left eye, and her face was still very pale.
"You haven't eaten all day, I'll get you some soup." Ye Cheng said, standing up to fetch the thermal container.
The thermal container held the soup and porridge that Lu Shanhu's private chef specifically prepared for Zimei, all with a light flavor.
Ye Cheng fed her some, but Zimei was used to strong flavors, and with only a bit of salt in the soup, she didn't have much appetite.
After a few bites, she didn't want to eat anymore.
"A Cheng, have you eaten?" she asked.
