After Steward Mo brought over a pen and paper, Xue Fanxin wrote a prescription for Gu Jinyuan. "Consume it according to the formula. Take one dose every day. I'll come back for a checkup in three days."
Gu Jinyuan took the prescription and looked at the crooked words on it, almost bursting into laughter.
He had not expected the esteemed heiress of the Duke's Estate to have handwriting inferior to that of a five-year-old child. But why did he find these crooked words so cute?
Xue Fanxin could tell at a glance that Gu Jinyuan was mocking her for her ugly handwriting. She rolled her eyes at him and said angrily, "Laugh if you want to. Aren't you afraid of internal injuries from holding it so hard?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Please forgive me."
"Tch, I'm not a cultured person, nor do I rely on writing to eat. What's the big deal if my writing is ugly?"
