Empty Shell

In the dim bedroom, the only source of light came from the flickering candlelight, casting a warm glow upon the emaciated figure on the bed, whose chest was rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. Occasionally, faint sobs and delirious murmurs echoed from his lips, sounding as if he was under a great torment.

The door swung open, and Tan Jiahu walked in, carrying with her a basin of warm water. Placing it on the nightstand, she then dipped a cloth into the water, wringing it out before carefully wiping her son's face and neck with it.