When she came back to her senses, she found herself in her eldest son's room. The room was still filled with the lingering smell of medicine.
A window opened on the east side. Hua Xi, who had a sickly expression, was sitting by the window with a black cloak. When he heard this, he looked in Madam Hua's direction and called out, "Mother."
His eye sockets and cheeks were slightly sunken because he was thin, making him look very weak. His voice was hoarse, and he was short of breath, but he was no longer as weak as he was this morning.
This face was originally identical to Hua Zhao's, but because he was sick and thin, the brothers only looked 50 to 60% alike.
"Xi'er!" Madam Hua shouted in a trembling voice. Her vision was blurry, and a few strands of messy hair were stuck to her cheeks with cold sweat. The usually dignified woman now revealed a rare, sorry state.