The moment Bai Lingling woke up, she realized she had forgotten his face from the dream again.
She was so sweaty that for one terrifying second she genuinely thought she had been thrown into a boiling pot in the middle of the night and cooked halfway without noticing.
Her hair was damp, her clothes clung to her body unpleasantly, and even the thin quilt on her bed looked as if it had suffered together with her through that shameless, exhausting, infuriating dream disaster.
Her throat felt dry as if she had swallowed fire, so she immediately sat up, looked around with the kind of urgency people usually reserved for escaping danger, and the moment she saw the cup of water set nearby, she grabbed it and gulped it down greedily.
She drank so fast that if anyone had seen her, they would have thought that the poor girl had crossed three deserts and one extra hell before finally finding water again.
