13:50;
Rong Xinghe stirred from her sleep, her consciousness slowly surfacing to the sound of soft voices engaged in conversation. Her eyelids fluttered, her vision hazy as she tried to take in her surroundings. The faint, calming scent of lavender and the fruity tang of cranberry filled the air, steadying her senses. A softly glowing LED candle beside her drew her focus, its warm light casting a gentle glow against the plush interior of the space.
As clarity returned, she realized she was still aboard Xi Yuan's private jet, nestled in the luxurious sanctuary of his bedroom. Her gaze shifted, and there he was—Xi Yuan, commanding as ever, speaking with a team of doctors clad in crisp white coats. His voice was firm yet composed, careful not to disturb her rest. Beyond him, the hybrids stood guard at the entrance, their sharp eyes fixed on the professionals, absorbing every word of the medical discussion.