Ming Jing furrowed her brows: "Do you really want to know?"
Zhu Shaodan adamantly said: "I have to know."
"Alright."
Ming Jing pulled him to one side, and after a while, a young man's angry growl was heard: "Zhu Xiangxiang... How dare she."
"I told you the truth, but don't act impulsively and do something stupid. Now that Madam Zhu is sick, it's your Senior who is holding up the Zhus. As the Zhus' only pillar of support, impulsiveness won't solve problems. You're already sixteen years old, and it's time to grow up after all this time."
Zhu Shaodan hung his head, his sharpness gone, like a deflated ball, listless and downcast.
"When will my dad wake up?"
Bo Yuxun walked over and said, "Mr. Zhu has injured his nervous system in the brain. Many famous neurosurgeons have consulted on his case, but no one can say for sure when he will wake up. It depends on fate now."
