Fu Yihan paid no attention to the raging Old Master Fu. With a pale face, faintly tinged red from excessive coughing, he casually covered his mouth, his expression indifferent.
The flush did nothing to improve his complexion; if anything, it made him appear even more peculiar.
"Yihan! Listen to your grandfather's advice. Get a professional doctor to take a look at what's really wrong with you!" the old man said urgently.
Fu Yihan's cold gaze swept over, and in the calm void of his eyes, not a ripple stirred—like that of a man teetering on the edge of death.
"..."
The grandfather and grandson inexplicably fell into a standoff.
After a long silence, it was the old man who finally chose to compromise.
"Fine, but I have one condition: Qin Chuan can come, but he must bring along another professional doctor."
"Cough, cough..." Fu Yihan's cheeks flushed red, and he nodded slightly. "Okay."
And with that, they reached an amicable agreement.
