"I'm the only one earning money at home, and if President Fu gets displeased and cuts my salary, my brother won't be able to get married."
Wen Qiao folded her arms across her chest, with a smirk, "Are you guilt-tripping me?"
"No, how could I? I just want you to take pity on me. But if you must go, I won't hold any grudges. It's just poor my brother, his marriage will have to be postponed."
Feng Li stared at Wen Qiao with an incredibly sincere gaze, unblinkingly hoping for a positive response from her.
Wen Qiao: "..."
Although Feng Li said he wouldn't hold any grudges if she really had to go, by the way he was blocking the door, it was clear he didn't want her to leave.
The standoff lasted for a while, but it was Fu Jinghen, lying on the hospital bed, who finally broke the silence.
"Qiaoqiao?"
His voice, rough from the fever, came from behind Wen Qiao.
"How did you get here?"
