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... is memories, finally understood his situation.

Orphan... Sickly... Newlywed... Dead.

But what had he just heard? A woman? A widow?

Was he a woman? He quietly moved one hand, relieved, he was a man.

Struggling, he "hmm" twice weakly, a faint voice arose.

"I... am a man, not dead."

Nian Shutong glanced down briefly, scrutinizing him—an actual man?

Eyebrows like paintings, skin smooth as cream, small rosebud lips, willowy waist, even his hands ...

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