You have been sick for as long as you can remember. It started when you were young and gradually got better, but went downhill again. You were tucked in bed, with a gentle, careful hand on your cheek that belonged to none other than Baizhu.

"Look at me, dove." He whispered, gently caressing your cheek. "I'm working on a cure; it'll get better." He smiled softly, worry evident in his eyes.

He was the only one who could truly make you feel healthy and at peace just with his presence.