"Master, are you alright? You should quickly go back and lie down."
Qin Mu saw his face turn pale in an instant, paler than before, and he appeared to be in great discomfort as he clutched the area over his heart. Fearing that Rong Zheng found the pain from his wound unbearable, Qin Mu quickly and carefully supported him into the sickroom.
Qin Yin lay on the hospital bed with a lifeless gaze, as if he had lost the will to live, motionless like a living dead.
At the same time, on Lan Jin's side, Rong Zheng and his brothers had specially booked the only Michelin restaurant in town solely to celebrate their revered mother's eighteenth birthday.
They had started preparations days ago. The whole restaurant was festooned in a jubilant and luxurious manner, adorned everywhere with flowers and balloons, and even the waiters were cosplaying as classic characters from animations.
Someone was playing the piano, and someone else was playing the violin.
