Zhan mo supported Duan xiuhui as they slowly walked down the steps.
When they walked through the long stairs covered in white roses and came to the church's main door.
Zhan Yang, who had been waiting for a long time, showed a concerned expression. xiuhui, Qianqian, you look very weak. I've specially arranged a seat for you inside. I'll get someone to take you in to rest first.
Zhan mo frowned slightly. He felt that his father's concern was ridiculous.
In the past, his father had never treated his mother with such an attitude.
"No, I'm not tired." Duan xiuhui opened her mouth slightly, but her voice was unexpectedly hoarse.
Her voice was no longer as sweet and pleasant as before. Instead, it was as low and hoarse as rusty iron.
Zhan Yang frowned,"xiuhui, your voice is hoarse."
The tall and handsome man showed a concerned look, as if he was really worried about this woman.
