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The royal study fell silent again. Like the darkest hours before dawn—when the sun rose above the land, to when the warm morning light was obscured by the dark clouds and the patter of autumn rain came down—during this time, the sounds in the royal study were like the weather. Sometimes large, and sometimes small. Sometimes violent, and sometimes as quiet as a glacier. The atmosphere was the same. At times it was tense and harsh, and then silent and bloody. At times it was perplexe ...

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“Hurry to the hospital and donate your blood.” “Go to the hospital at once.” “Remember to donate blood at the hospital.” Even if she had already been donating blood for three times in the past few months, which then took a toll on her body, Huo Chuan never felt an ounce of pity for his so-called wife. After three years of marriage, Huo Chuan would only ever contact her to ask her to donate her blood to the hospital. No, accurately speaking, she was selling her blood. Selling it to Huo Chuan’s beloved woman, Bai Ting.

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