After dinner, Florence took the little bun and left.
Sarah Sullivan sat silently by the bed, watching the sleeping man.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to personally cook for your aunt and son. Don't worry, I have my principles. I'll try my best not to let Brightan get into trouble, but if your aunt ends up vomiting, foaming at the mouth, and questioning life after the meal, that's not my fault. After all, I'm being forced, and it's all because of your good aunt's own doing."
Sarah was just habitually venting; she didn't expect any reaction from the man.
So after speaking, she started the acupuncture treatment for the man.
But Sarah noticed a faint smile on the man's face, which was as frozen as the Antarctic sea?
This indicated that her treatment was becoming increasingly effective.
Sarah couldn't help but feel a sense of joy.
Then she became somewhat annoyed: "Smile? What are you smiling at? Laughing at my cooking skills? When you wake up, I'll cook for you every day! Poison you!"
