As soon as Zhan Jingtian returned to his bedroom, he received a video call from his second cousin, Zhan Jinghong, who was recuperating in Fengye Country.
He answered the video call and a handsome pale face came into view. He didn't look well, but he still looked distinguished. There was no expression on his face, and he exuded an aura that kept people away. It made him look distant.
The background of the video was a snow-white wall with a soft-colored oil painting hanging on it. Zhan Jingtian was very familiar with the background. This was the high-class ward where his cousin from Jinshan General Hospital was staying.
Zhan Jingtian smiled helplessly. "Young Master Jinghong, do you know what time it is now?"
"It's about four in the afternoon on my side." Zhan Jinghong's unhurried voice was very unique.
