Awake, yet for the first time in three years, she felt a rare sense of peace beside Xi Fuhong.
Crash!—
The vase shattered on the floor.
Two maids rushed forward to clean up the broken porcelain.
One of the girls kept glancing nervously toward the wall.
There, Xue Baihua was trembling all over, clawing at her hair like a madwoman, her face twisted in agony as if she were being tortured.
The vase had been knocked over during her fit.
No one knew what had happened to the Divine Doctor, but she had been like this since morning—completely deranged.
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