Du Ziheng straightened up, carefully observing Xia Qingqian, noticing her pale complexion. He asked in a gentle voice, "Why does your face look so pale?"
He wanted to reach across the table to catch her, but unexpectedly, Xia Qingqian collapsed onto the floor a step ahead of him.
In shock, he jumped directly over the semicircular office desk, quickly lifting her into his arms, gently tapping her sweat-drenched cheek. An aching pain like being bitten by ants surged in his heart.
"Xiao Qian, what's wrong?" he asked her with furrowed brows. She, dizzy and confused, clutched her stomach tightly, almost biting her tender lips with her teeth.
Seeing her like this, Du Ziheng was at a loss. He could only help her up and let her rest on a chair.
He picked up the phone and dialed the extension for Beitang Yao's office.
Soon, Xia Qingqian was taken to the company's infirmary, where Ye Feng, dressed in a white coat, examined her carefully.
