Su Jue didn't know how to mend this flimsy lie, only feeling now that the shame was unbearable.
The fact that he, renowned as the Guo Degang of the secretarial world, had fallen to such a state, head bowed and stuttering without being able to utter anything substantial.
Just when he was anxiously considering fleeing through the ground, the door to the hospital room opened.
A unique scent wafted through the open door from inside, like the smell of traditional Chinese medicine, and yet also like tobacco.
Yao Qing stood silently in her original spot, her hand gripping the flower seemingly tightened, and yet as if there were no fluctuations at all.
She looked at the man in front of her.
A young man, a young male, with an excellent healing ability.
Having seen him half-dead before, now he could remove most of the gauze from his body.
A sheer bandage was affixed to his tall, straight nose; his pitch-black eyes stared at her, their gaze like dripping with icy blue flames.
