“It’s hard to say,” the doctor said. “Best case, three or four months. Worst case… it could be any length of time.” She paused before adding, “But you’re so young. I’m sure it will go smoothly for you.” Time passed quickly. After a fall shower, autumn officially descended upon A City. That evening, Qin An’an emerged from the bathroom after her shower. She walked to the bedside, opened the new moisturizer she had bought that day, and began to smooth it, bit by bit, onto her skin. “Fu Shiting, maybe I should put some on you too,” she said, moving to his side of the bed. “It’s been so dry lately.” She sat on the edge of the bed, dabbed a little moisturizer onto her finger, and began to smooth it across his face. His eyes snapped open. They were as deep as amber, gleaming like precious stones. The light gleaming in them startled her, and her breath caught in her throat. She saw him open his eyes every day, but it never failed to jolt her. “Was I too rough? But I was barely touching you,” she murmured, her fingers continuing their gentle massage on his cheek. She rambled on, more to herself than to him. “Fu Shiting, I read online that you’ve never had a girlfriend. It must be because of some… physical problem. But you seem perfectly fine to me! These strong arms… these firm thighs…” Once she finished with the moisturizer, she gave his arm and then his thigh a light pat. The gesture was feather-light, nowhere near forceful enough to cause a problem. But his reaction made her eyes fly wide— Because… she thought she’d just heard a man’s voice. “Fu Shiting, was that you?!” Qin An’an shot up from the bed, her almond eyes wide as she stared at his face. “Did you just say something?” He was looking right back at her. This was different. Before, when he opened his eyes, his gaze was always vacant. But now, his eyes were locked on hers, and they were filled with emotion—a volatile mix of anger, hostility, and a flicker of confusion. “Mrs. Zhang!” Like a scalded cat, Qin An’an shot out of the room and bolted downstairs. “Mrs. Zhang, Fu Shiting’s awake! He spoke to me! He’s really awake!” Her face was flushed, her heart hammered against her ribs, and her chest heaved with panicked breaths. Fu Shiting was awake. She was sure of it. He hadn't just opened his eyes; he had spoken to her. His voice had been hoarse and slow, but it was filled with a chilling authority. He had asked her, “Who are you?” For a moment, her mind went blank. Everyone had told her he was going to die soon. She had never once considered what she would do if he actually woke up. In response to her shouts, Mrs. Zhang, the doctor, and several bodyguards came rushing up the stairs. Half an hour later, the villa was teeming with people. No one could believe that Fu Shiting had regained consciousness. “Shiting, I knew you would wake up!” Fu Laotaitai wept with joy. “Shiting, we’re so glad you’re awake,” Fu Han said. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? Mother, especially. Her hair has gone completely white from the grief.” After a quick examination of Fu Shiting, the doctor addressed Fu Laotaitai. “It’s nothing short of a miracle. His last check-up showed no signs of improvement. Now that Mr. Fu is speaking, as long as he follows up with proper physical therapy, he should be able to make a nearly full recovery.” The sudden joy was too much for Fu Laotaitai to bear. Her knees buckled, and she fainted. Fu Han carried her out of the room. The doctor, Mrs. Zhang, and the bodyguards remained in the room, along with Qin An’an, who hovered in the doorway, too afraid to step inside. She was still completely stunned. The aura Fu Shiting exuded now that he was awake was utterly terrifying. Propped up against the headboard, his hawk-like eyes, blazing with an intense chill, were locked on her face. “Who is she?” His voice was low and powerful, each word laced with command. The doctor didn’t dare to breathe. With her head bowed, Mrs. Zhang explained, “Sir, she is the wife your mother arranged for you to marry while you were ill. Her name is…” Fu Shiting’s thin lips parted, his voice devoid of emotion. “Get her out.”