Chapter 947
Words:867Update:22/06/26 11:53:28
The old abbot and the others recited the sutras for three days straight. Every day, there were countless imperial physicians running around.
Yan Fan could only look at them and shake his head and sigh. They said that Her Highness' pulse was weakening day by day. At that time, the sword was only two centimeters away from her heart. They worked tirelessly to turn the tide and snatch Her Highness from the King of Hell's Palace. But who would have thought that Her Highness would fall into a deep sleep because of this.
One of the imperial physicians let it slip. She said that Her Highness might not want to wake up, or she might have been hurt by something and didn't want to wake up and continue to face it.
As soon as that imperial physician finished speaking, he was shut up by the other imperial physicians.
Everyone temporarily went to rest. Yan Fan secretly came to Shen Wanqing's bedside alone.
The girl's eyes were tightly shut. Her pale lips were pursed. Her face was completely pale and she was terrifyingly quiet.
He deeply looked at the girl's face, his eyes filled with longing. Yan Fan reached out and trembled as he held the girl's hand.
Her fingers were terrifyingly cold. Yan Fan covered her hand with his, trying to warm it up for her.
"Your Highness … … Yan Fan begs you … … can you wake up?"
"Yan Fan regrets it. Yan Fan … … Yan Fan wants to stay by Her Highness' side. If I had known this would happen, Yan Fan would have followed Her Highness that day … … "
"As long as you wake up, Yan Fan will listen to Her Highness … …"
"Open your eyes and look at Yan Fan, please … … please … … Qingqing … …"
For some reason, Yan Fan couldn't warm the girl's hand. He felt that her hand was even colder than before.
Yan Fan panicked. His long eyelashes trembled. He looked at the unconscious girl lying on the bed. He was as lost as a child who couldn't find his way home.
"Qingqing … … don't leave me, please … …"
"I beg you, look at me."
Yan Fan held Shen Wanqing's hand. He devoutly and reverently kissed the back of the girl's hand.
That pair of devilish peach blossom eyes were already red. The cinnabar mole between his eyebrows was bright red.
Yan Fan's eyes were closed. His thin and soft pale lips gently touched the girl's hand.
He murmured, "If Her Highness is gone, Yan Fan has no meaning to live."
"… … …"
Her Highness' voice was very soft.
Yan Fan paused. His long eyelashes fluttered, and when he looked up, his dark blue pupils contracted tightly.
Her Her Her Her Highness's Her Highness..... Her Her Highness, Yan was Yan Fan.
This was the scene he had been dreaming of for the past few days, but when he actually saw it, Yan Fan's mind had already gone blank.
His cheeks felt cold, as if something was flowing out of his eyes.
Tears dripped onto Shen Wanqing's hand.
Shen Wanqing sighed as she looked at the pitiful girl in front of her who was crying so hard.
She struggled to reach out and gently wiped the tears from the little boy's eyes. "What are you crying for? Am I not awake?"
— — 'Yan Fan, will you cry?'
— — 'Yes.'
— — 'I thought that as a monk, you had already gotten over it.'
— — 'Getting over it is a state of mind. Crying is an emotion. Crying tears of joy is also an emotion.'
Would Yan Fan cry?
No, he wouldn't.
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