Her plain face can't hide the exquisiteness of eyebrows and eyes, but this exquisiteness can't hide the haggard weakness that has filled her face.

She closed her eyes slightly and rested quietly by the bed, pale and without a trace of blood. Sometimes she frowned slightly, sometimes she was panting, and the torture of the disease made her lose her former vitality.

Her face looked sickly pale, and her thick curly eyelids flapped slightly, casting a small obvious shadow under her eyes and face.

Her pale little face was not rosy, and her thin body seemed to fall down with a gentle wind.

This beautiful woman has a thin face and a weak figure. It looks sad and unhappy, especially its eyes, as mysterious as an ancient well. The girl leaned weakly against the hospital bed, and the completely ill-fitting blue and white hospital gown, like a wide nightgown, covered her petite and thin figure.

Her hair is as light as black jade, her neck skin is as delicate as fine porcelain, and Ming Che's white face is delicate, but her body is thin and she can't walk steadily.

Her little face was burning red, her mouth was open, her little nose was flapping hard, but her eyes were closed tightly.

The woman sitting inside, with hair in her arms, pale lips, a scarlet suit and a pair of autumn pools without water. Her pupils are very light, her skin is as white as snow, and she is morbidly white all year round.

On the girl's beautiful but slightly weak face, the delicate jade skin is not ruddy, but only presents a morbid pallor, and even her lips don't have much blood.

Tears flow first, delicate illness, little tears on the beauty's face, people can't help but care and protect.

Her face is morbidly pale, and the red color of her lips is particularly enchanting, like a desperate swan, so proud that even death can't bring her beauty.

I haven't seen her for years, but she is still so beautiful. It's just that I'm getting weaker and weaker because of my illness, and the brocade that was originally suitable for me also looks empty.

Her lips are pale and can't be painted with rouge, and there is blood in the handkerchief wrapped around her hand. Her figure is too thin, so she sat down slowly and coughed again.

She licked her thin lips, which were peeling from lack of water. Obsidian eyes twinkle with the dripping water, and the world seems so quiet, leaving only the girl's weak breathing and dripping sound.

She reached out to touch the beautiful Bai Jingwei in the yard. Sunlight permeates her fingers, softens the edges of her fingers, and makes the palm as delicate as white jade more transparent, as if the girl would dissipate in the sun the next moment.