Lin City was in the depths of winter; the temperature had plummeted. Patients lined the corridors of the hospital and doctors and nurses hurried along to attend to their tasks.
Compared to them, Li Qianxue stood out the most.
Li Qianxue wore a white woolen coat, her hair was tied in a bun, and her makeup was impeccably sophisticated. Her features were beautiful and she looked barely past her thirties.
Even though she walked briskly, her strides were very elegant. She was the epitome of Lin City's high-society; the paragon of a privileged lady.
No matter when or where she was seen, she always exuded grace and elegance, and there was a look of refinement on her face.
However, at this moment, her disposition reflected displeasure.
No, displeasure was an understatement. She looked livid.
Just as Su Qingsang was wondering whether she could avoid the wrath, Li Qianxue had already spotted her.
