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... irred awake, the lingering weight of exhaustion pressing down on her chest. Her eyelids felt heavy, her limbs strangely light, and for a brief moment, she thought she was still in the hospital.

Then she noticed something strange.

The sheets under her fingertips were impossibly soft. The air smelled faintly of fresh flowers and something sweet, nothing like the sterile, antiseptic scent of the hospital room she had spent months in.

Beatrice's brows furrowed. What the hell? ...

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This book was also called “I’m Really An Upright Man”. I am Qin Shujian. I’ve achieved nothing in both the way of the book and the sword in these prosperous 30 years. This is the growth journey of an honorable, compassionate, and upright man!

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