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... h? What?

The sharp scent of disinfectants filled my nostrils, and the softness of the mattress beneath me made it clear I wasn't anywhere familiar.

A wave of confusion washed over me.

Where am I?

I tried to move, but the slight tug of something on my arm made me pause.

Glancing down, I saw several stitches and a small needle taped to my skin, connected to a thin tube leading to an IV drip hanging from a stand nearby.

Am I in the hospital again?

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Transmigration? A Chong Xi Marriage? Sickly husband? How worse can this get?

Mo Qian Xue now lives in a soddy, destitute, small house with broken furnitures. The grass had grown wild and unruly from lack of proper care. The rice pot in the kitchen, it’s left empty. Well, this mess seemed quite manageable, however, why is it they only have one quilt in the house?

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Dad, please work harder, it’s better to roll yourself than roll your baby!

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