Zhang Hao, backed by his professional knowledge, said seriously, "Actually, urine is sterile unless I have an inflammation."
He Qianhui frowned, unsure of what to say, and disdainfully threw the tissue in her hand into the trash can.
"Hurry up and pull up your pants, then go back to your room to sleep."
Watching her turn to leave, Zhang Hao hopped on one leg, supporting himself against the wall.
He Qianhui, who had already walked out of the bathroom, heard the noise behind her and remembered that she had supported Zhang Hao to the toilet just before.
His good friend the cane was still standing by the bedside table.
Turning back to the bathroom door, she saw that Zhang Hao had already hopped to the doorway on one leg.
"Oh, you are really persevering despite your disability; I was worried you might accidentally fall."
Zhang Hao, leaning against the wall, thought if it weren't for this wall at hand, he might have indeed taken a tumble.
