And Qin Yize had pushed the door open.
At that moment, Gu Qiaoqiao saw a Qin Yize as cold as snow, with a troubled expression.
Gone was the usual softness in his eyes when he saw her.
It must have been the death of Zhan Yanxiang that had struck him.
For someone like Qin Yize, he must be feeling extremely guilty at this moment.
Before Gu Qiaoqiao could speak, Qin Yize pulled up a chair, sat down in front of Gu Qiaoqiao's bed, slowly took her hand, and held it gently as he asked in a low voice, "Qiaoqiao, are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Gu Qiaoqiao hurriedly replied, and then asked Qin Yize, "Have you had dinner?"
"I have."
"Did those people confess?"
