In Zhao Yang's heart, Zhang Xiuer was someone he had to protect for a lifetime.
Even after the doctor had seen her, he still needed to check on her himself.
"Alright, then let's go to the inner room," Zhang Xiuer said, feigning ease as she walked toward the inner room. "Close the door."
Zhao Yang followed her in and obediently closed the door behind them.
The space felt as though it was sealed off, and in the entire room there were only the two of them.
The unusual atmosphere made them both feel somewhat embarrassed.
Now, the feeling in Zhao Yang's heart was very different from usual; his usual calm composure was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a sense of unease.
Zhao Yang walked over to the chair beside the sickbed and sat down, casting a glance at Zhang Xiuer.
"Come on, sorry to trouble you," Zhang Xiuer said in a low voice as she lay down on the bed.
At that moment, Zhao Yang couldn't help but think of Li Huaifa.
