Chapter 11: Marrying the Seriously Ill Rich Young Man (11)

Her first reaction was to check his breathing, and thankfully, he was still breathing.

What kind of strange illness does this Third Young Master have? Why is it so peculiar that he could even fall asleep while eating?

Zhong Lingling pushed the wheelchair. It was quite an effort to move Xiang Yimo back onto the bed.

Then, drenched in sweat, she sat on the edge of the bed, taking several deep breaths.

Glancing at the wall clock, she saw it was getting late; it was time to sleep.

The bedroom was so large, there should be another bed somewhere. She certainly didn't want to sleep with a man she had just met.

Zhong Lingling got up and searched the room entirely, only to find that there indeed was just one bed. Infuriatingly, this room, which seemed like a presidential suite in its luxury, didn't even have a sofa.

Zhong Lingling didn't know that when the room was arranged, the Xiang patriarch had explicitly ordered not to place any sofas.

Of course, the purpose was to make the future daughter-in-law automatically climb into the big bed.

The weather was so cold, there was no heating in the room, and she couldn't find a blanket. If she were to sleep in that small chair, she would surely freeze to death by the latter half of the night.

Feeling aggrieved, she stared at the bed where Xiang Yimo was sleeping. He was lying in the middle, leaving relatively spacious areas on both sides, just enough to fit one person.

To sleep or not to sleep? To sleep there or not?

After much consideration, she still refused to sleep.

Humph! She would rather freeze to death than sleep with a man she had met for the first time.

Zhong Lingling took two bath towels from the closet, sat on a wooden chair, and prepared to doze off on the desk for the night.

The night grew deeper.

Exhausted, Zhong Lingling fell asleep on the desk.

Because she was so tired, she slept soundly.

In the large room, that profound and mystifying gaze was once again cast upon her.

Xiang Yimo threw back the covers, a stark contrast to his earlier deathly sickly appearance, and got out of bed quickly.

At this moment, he looked perfectly normal, far from sick. His complexion had lost its previous pallor, and he looked as healthy as any other person.

His hair was cut very short, a stylist would regularly come to trim it, and standing up at a height of 1.88 meters, he was simply breathtaking.

With profound features and a sharply contoured face, his deep-set, bright eyes were as mysterious as obsidian.

He was like an angel appearing only in the night, unbelievably stunning.

Xiang Yimo, looking at the classical groom's attire he was still wearing, felt a sense of amusement and frustration.

Opening the closet, he took off the wedding clothes and changed into casual tank top and long pants: a white tank with light gray trousers and a coat thrown over. Even dressed casually, he looked very good.

Xiang Yimo was definitely one who looked slim in clothes but was muscular underneath.

Unfortunately, such a fine physique was seen only by Xiaojin, who had served him for years.

Xiaojin was a boy in his early twenties from a poor family. Serving the seriously ill Yimo, the Xiang Family paid him a handsome salary, so he had always been dedicated, even staying with Yimo at night. However, today was Yimo's wedding day, and it was not suitable for Xiaojin, a man, to stay with him.

In this cold winter, Xiaojin, wearing a thick green padded jacket, was standing by in the hallway outside the bridal room, ready to serve at any moment.

After getting dressed, Xiang Yimo glanced in Zhong Lingling's direction but didn't pay any attention to her sleeping on the desk.

He turned and entered another room in the bedroom.

There was fitness equipment in the room, as well as a private study.

He would always work out in the gym only after the people serving him had fallen asleep.