Arriving at the entrance to Feng Yun's estate, the ox cart came to a halt.
Xiang Zhong lifted the curtain and stretched out his hand to assist Chunyu Yan, but there was no movement from inside for a long while.
Feng Yun glanced at the purple brocade curtains and feigned surprise as she asked,
"Has the Princely Heir's poison been resolved, or is it not getting any better?"
Chunyu Yan coughed lightly twice. His face, concealed by a mask, showed no signs of his complexion, but his soft, doughy lips were slightly pale. Seeing Feng Yun's face, his lips immediately pursed in cold firmness.
"Looking at that smug look on your face, Feng Twelve, are you hoping that I'll die?"
This chilly voice, it sounds like he's low on breath, doesn't it?
Feng Yun did not want to argue with a sick person, let alone irritate the golden goose to death.
She stood elegantly and pointed next door.
"Princely Heir, Doctor Yao's house is right over there..."