Everything in life was proceeding normally, and Qiao Zhiyi was preparing to return to work at the hospital.
The injuries on Qiao Zhihuan's face were no longer that severe, but there were still some light scars, so she wore a mask.
"You should rest for a while longer." Qiao Zhiyi, seeing her still limping, was somewhat uneasy.
"It's okay," Qiao Zhihuan said. "I'll wear flat shoes, that way it won't be noticeable when I walk. And it doesn't hurt."
Seeing that she was not giving up, Qiao Zhiyi had no choice, "Then make sure the leaders don't send you out on errands anymore. Just stay in the office."
Qiao Zhihuan laughed, "With my current condition, I can only work in the office."
Both of them entered the company together, and many people saw their close relationship, the very image of good sisters.
Some people began to envy Qiao Zhihuan, having a sister who was going to be the future president's wife, her prospects seemingly unmatched by anyone.