"You guys, who can help me take Zhaozhao to the hospital!" the manager said anxiously, "She needs to go to the hospital right now!"
But backstage, these part-time workers, who would dare to touch Song Zhaozhao. If something went wrong during the move, whose responsibility would it be?
So even though the manager was so anxious, no one took the initiative to step forward and volunteer.
"Please, everyone, be good!" the manager was almost crying, "If Zhaozhao doesn't go to the hospital right now, her wound will become more serious!"
Qin Yao, wearing a cap, had just finished moving props in the storage room.
He looked at Song Zhaozhao from a distance—such a delicately beautiful girl, just too quiet, so different from how she was on stage just before.
She seemed not as flamboyant as her appearance suggested, even, one could say, somewhat indifferent.
