Several seconds later, Zhan Qipei seemed to feel the icy coldness on his face as his eyebrows twitched slightly.
Qiao Jing's tears had stopped, and her fingers holding the phone were trembling, accidentally pressing a wrong number.
Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly caught sight of the man's eyelashes trembling.
Qiao Jing immediately set her phone aside.
"Zhan Qipei?! How are you?"
Zhan Qipei slowly opened his eyes, and after seeing the undried tear stains on Qiao Jing's face, he managed a pale, feeble smile.
He wanted to lift his hand to wipe her tears away, but he lacked the strength, instead softly comforting her with his barely audible voice.
"You are... a doctor, just... just treat me, and I'll be fine."
It was only after hearing Zhan Qipei's words that Qiao Jing belatedly realized her own profession; she reached out and took Zhan Qipei's pulse.
