Three days later, Feng Zhiwei opened her eyes and saw the autumn chrysanthemums blossoming outside the veiled window.
She heard the leaf flute melody up above her, a shaky melody that seemed to brighten as she opened her eyes.
The courtyard's birds began to sing accompaniment to the flute.
Her eyes were dry as she turned her head. Her room was filled; Ning Cheng lay on the beams up above, his sleeping drool raining down. Helian Zheng slept in the rain, clutching his head strangely as if muffling his snores. Yan Huaishi slept on his wife's thigh, and Yao Yangyu slept comfortably against Yu Liang's belly.
The room was filled with the scent of herbs and medicine, but underneath everything was a strange, familiar fragrance.
Feng Zhiwei turned her head again. Ning Yi had been sitting by her bed meditating, but as soon as Feng Zhiwei opened her eyes, he immediately noticed and turned to meet her gaze, a smile crossing his lips.