Maple Swallow stood by the door and asked him, "Shall we go to the hospital?"
Trenton Smith's pale face was slightly furrowed as he nodded, but he remained silent.
He went to his own hospital for an examination, but the results showed everything was normal, with no problems identified; they could only prescribe him some painkillers.
Faced with this outcome, both Maple Swallow and Trenton Smith seemed unsurprisingly unfazed.
"Feeling any better?"
Maple Swallow went to pour a cup of hot water and returned, handing it to Trenton Smith.
Through the steam, his face was bloodlessly pale. Like a piece of cold jade without warmth, it emitted a cold, ghastly hue.
Trenton Smith, clutching the hot water, leaned on the sofa in the hospital's rest room. His body was still subtly aching, but he nodded lightly anyway.
Maple Swallow stood by, looking down at his complexion, then turned and walked to the window, sighing softly.
