"Madam, have you been eating well lately?" Zhao Yang asked.
"I've had no appetite," the elderly lady replied, "A lump of pickled vegetables can last me several days. In one meal, I could manage just a small piece of steamed bun and half a bowl of thin porridge."
"You eat just steamed buns and pickled vegetables every day?" Zhao Yang frowned and asked.
"Ah, living alone at home, I have no desire to cook, and I can't eat much. The leftovers just spoil," the elderly lady sighed.
"What about your son?" Zhao Yang inquired.
"My son and daughter-in-law have gone to work in Northern Yan Continent. They won't be back for another two years," she explained.
At this, Zhao Yang glanced at Zhang Xiuer, then said, "Grandma, I'll prescribe you some medicine. Take it back with you, follow the instructions, and I assure you, you'll get better."
"Really?" The elderly lady seemed somewhat incredulous at Zhao Yang's words.
Zhao Yang had just claimed her illness could be cured!
