There are five days left until Chinese New Year's Eve, and after much effort, Li Qiao was brought back to the old residence in Parma.
During this time, Li Qiao never regained consciousness.
Luoyu accompanied her the whole time, carefully tending to Li Qiao.
This afternoon, in the backyard by the fish pond, Shang Zonghai, dressed in casual homewear, sat in a rattan chair flipping through a medical book.
Yun Lih stood a short distance away, his slender outline making his features appear even more pronounced.
He glanced at Luoyu, deeply concerned, "What exactly is wrong with Qiaoqiao?"
Luoyu looked back at him, shaking her head slightly, "Still not sure."
"Even the old master couldn't diagnose it?" Yun Lih's expression was grave, a rare moment of helplessness.
Li Qiao and Shang Shaoyan had been missing for nearly a month, with searches in both the South Sea and Parma yielding no clues.
