Xia Ruya opened her eyes slowly, only to feel an acute pain in her head. She reached a hand out to stroke her forehead before rubbing her sore and dry eyes. She finally felt much more sober.
She was greeted with the sight of white walls, and the pungent odor of antiseptic solution infiltrated her senses. She realized that she had already been rescued from the living hell that was Black Sunday and was now in the hospital.
Her throat was dry and parched. She struggled to sit up straight and propped her weak and feeble body up in a bid to drink some water. The sudden flashing of lights and the sounds of the camera shutter gave her a great shock.
What exactly is going on?
Are those reporters?
Why are they taking photos of me?
Ever since she became the illegitimate daughter of the Xia Family, there were no longer any newsworthy details about her.
