"I am sorry..." Nan Ling coughed. Her voice had turned hoarse and her throat also hurt from speaking for so long. "I can't speak anymore."
"You can't speak?" Xia Lihua asked. "Bo Yanyan, can you pass me a water bottle?"
Bo Yanyan snapped out of her trance.
She had been watching Nan Ling apologize for almost five hundred times now, but it felt like an eternity.
Of course, Nan Ling's voice had turned hoarse; it was only natural.
Bo yanyan hesitated for a moment, glancing at Nan Ling's pale, tear-streaked face, before handing the bottle to Xia Lihua.
Nan Ling lifted her gaze.
Would Xia Lihua actually show kindness?
Xia Lihua unscrewed the cap with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving Nan Ling's.
She gripped Nan Ling's chin with one hand, forcing her to raise her head.
Nan Ling flinched, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth instinctively opening as Xia Lihua tilted the bottle.