116 The Institute (57)

In a half-dreaming, half-awake state, Chu Yi felt as if he had been roughly dragged out of a heavy and murky marsh. The feeling of weakness and weightlessness once gained assaulted him as his chest heaved rapidly, the pale face coated in a thin, red flush from lack of oxygen. His eyes blinked dully as psychological tears clung onto the fluttering butterfly lashes. A meaningful smile spread slowly across his lips and Chu Yi reveled in the feeling of soreness and stiffness in his limbs.

Chu Yi's fingers moved slightly and to his surprise, he could feel a soft, light occupying the center of his palm...It was a rose. The softly upturned petals gently unfurled before him, it is color a gorgeous crimson red that lay like an unblemished gem in his hands.

Chu Yi stared quietly at the flower in his hands for a moment, lightly tracing the fragile stem before quietly placing it at the head of his pillow.