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Lu Aotian stepped into the room moments after Yi Chuhua's bodyguard left. His eyes immediately searched for the one woman he cared about and their eyes met.
A silent sigh of relief escaped his throat seeing her safe and conscious. His eyes took her in. His brows furrowed noticing the delicate state she was in.
There was a bandage wrapped around her head and her wrist up to her arms. She had a cut lip and one of her cheekbones was slightly swollen.
Compared to the last time he saw her, she looked too pale and weak. His heart aches at the sight.
While Lu Aotian silently assessed her, Mei Xing took the pleasure of doing the same thing. Just like every other time she had seen him, Lu Aotian still had a regal look.
His hair was scattered as if he had run his fingers through it a million times. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were folded up to his elbows and the top three buttons were undone.