Qiao Zhiyun brought a basket of fruits to visit Fu Wan in the hospital, who was getting an IV in a VIP room.
Her trusted aide was guarding the door and didn't look too pleased when he saw Qiao Zhiyun.
If it weren't for the young miss's affection for this man, he would have beaten him up long ago.
"How is she?" Qiao Zhiyun asked.
"She injured her stomach." The aide said coldly, "Mr. Qiao, our young miss is truly sincere about you. If you had any conscience, you wouldn't treat her this way."
Qiao Zhiyun did indeed feel somewhat guilty, "I didn't know her stomach was so fragile. I'm truly sorry." He handed over the basket of fruits to the aide, "This is a small token of my feelings."
The aide glanced indifferently at the basket, "Compared to these fruits, our miss would prefer your concern more."