Listening to Wen Qiao's energetic voice, Fu Jinghen finally felt some relief, but hearing her sobbing welts, he felt his heart being wrenched again, "I'm coming right away, just wait a bit longer."
"Are you coming empty-handed?"
"......."
"What would you like to eat?" Fu Jinghen asked.
"Actually, I don't have much of an appetite...." Wen Qiao sniffed, "But I think I need to nourish myself. When you come, bring some crab roe soup dumplings, pan-fried dumplings, grilled durian, Napoleon pastries, and mousse cake—Sister Yao?"
Wen Qiao was thinking about what to order using her injury as an excuse when she saw the door to the ward open, and her voice suddenly turned a corner, "Sister Yao? You got here so quickly?"
