Shen Xuanzhi walked past as if he hadn't seen her.
Huo Sijiao stood rooted to the spot, her expression frozen.
"Shen Xuanzhi!"
She turned around and shouted loudly.
The man slowly stopped and looked at her with a heavy gaze, as if asking what she wanted.
He was not a traditionally handsome man, nor as delicately noble as Zhong Yi, but resembled a desolate pine shrouded in a hint of sickness, his complexion morbidly pale.
This face was enduring to look at.
His back was always straight, usually expressionless, yet conveyed an unmistakable chill.
It seemed like nothing could move him.
He probably had never been accustomed to accepting others' kindness.
He asked, "What is it?"
Huo Sijiao gathered her courage and said, "Do you need help? Shall I get you some water so you can go back to your room and take care of your mother? Didn't my sister-in-law say you need to take out the needle yourself?"
