The president always wants to steal my sweet potato

At this moment, she suddenly felt a little helpless.

She stared at the ceiling with empty eyes, not knowing what day it was. There was no one around her who could help her, and her weak heart began to ache uncontrollably, throbbing so hard that she could hardly breathe.

She closed her eyes gently, trying to relieve the heaviness and pressure on her body caused by the heart pain by adjusting her breathing.

Fine beads of sweat oozed from her forehead. It seemed like a century had passed before the pain in her heart finally stopped, and she finally breathed a sigh of relief as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

She tried to move her fingers, then slowly used her arms to support her body and finally sat up.

The dryness in my throat seemed like the drying up of an oasis in the desert, leaving only cracks on the ground.

She wants to drink water.

She looked at the head of the bed and saw only a green humidifier working diligently there. Apart from that, there was only a desk lamp. She didn't see anything else.

The water is probably in the water dispenser, and so is the cup.

She stood up and walked around twice. Maybe because her eyes were blurry, she went around the room twice and searched everywhere but couldn't find the water dispenser.

Her chest felt increasingly heavy, and the scene before her eyes began to blur. She had to raise her hands slightly to maintain her balance.

Her chest, which had been suffocating just now, suddenly began to twitch again. She frowned and raised one hand to press hard, trying to calm it down.

Her stomach felt as if it was churning, and a hint of rust rose up in her throat. She pursed her lips and forced herself to suppress the nausea.

Her feet felt increasingly weak and every step was as light as if she was stepping on cotton. If she continued like this, not only would she not be able to find the water dispenser, she would also run out of strength first.

So she stopped, thought about it in her mind, and stumbled towards the bathroom.

On the way, a strong smell of rust surged up her throat again. This time it was so fierce that she couldn't suppress it anymore. She could only speed up her pace towards the bathroom.

If I couldn't walk and it was really too late, the worst that could happen was I would vomit on the ground, she thought.

Fortunately, she made it to the bathroom smoothly. After supporting herself on the washbasin on the counter with her hands, she seemed to have found a support point all of a sudden. All the strength in her body suddenly disappeared, and she spat out a mouthful of thick, somewhat black blood.

My arms began to tremble uncontrollably and I had no strength left in my body. I could only barely stand.

She transferred most of her body's weight to the sink in front of her. Her arms trembled more severely, but she was still able to hold on. Her head felt so heavy that she wanted to dive into it.

She gasped for air, and after a while she tried to raise her head slowly, glancing at the mirror in front of her. She was reflected in the mirror, looking a little weak and pale, but also a kind of indescribable charm.

No, how could she be associated with such a word?

It shouldn't be like this.

She lowered her head again and tried to spit out the blood remaining in her lungs. When she could no longer spit out anything, she turned on the faucet and started to clean it.

No matter how good the water quality was, it was hard to resist the strong smell of blood in her mouth. She raised the water again and again, carefully washing the blood stains on her hands and in her mouth.

Her face looked very calm, and her movements were unhurried. But after a closer look at her expression, it was not difficult to see that she was suppressing a bit of panic and uneasiness in her heart.

But the more she washed, the more bloodstains there seemed to be. Her hands were shaking constantly, and an emotion called fear came over her, but she pretended not to know and tried her best to ignore it.

She did it.

Even after washing it clean, she still felt like something was not washed away, so she rubbed it three more times before stopping.

She adjusted her breathing and slowly looked up at the mirror. She was still as bright and charming as before, except that her face was a little pale.

She looked at the faucet, and after a brief thought, she did not drink the water. Instead, she wiped the water stains on her body and returned to the bed to lie down peacefully.

No matter how thirsty she was, she could not drink raw water unless it was absolutely necessary. Moreover, she had already relieved some of the dry throat symptoms when she cleaned the blood stains.

A long time ago, her physical condition was such that she could drink raw water, that is, before she was hospitalized abroad.

After being discharged from the hospital, although my physical condition is still the same as before, I still have to pay more attention to it than before.

Normally, she wouldn't drink raw water.

Unless she's dying.

Now that I'm not dying of thirst, I naturally won't drink.

Soon after Mu Yaqi returned to bed, she fell into sleep again.