With a hint of unfathomable meaning in Zhou Xiaomin’s dark eyes, Shen Feifei felt cold all over. She frowned and subconsciously wanted to keep her distance from Zhou Xiaomin.
But now she was a patient and could only lie in the hospital bed.
"I'll peel you an apple." Zhou Xiaomin smiled, but the expression on her face revealed a chill.
Shen Feifei wanted to refuse, but she could not say it out, and even her heartbeat began to speed up.
Seeing that she did not speak, Zhou Xiaomin smiled, pulled out a fruit knife from the big bag, and sat in front of the chair and began to peel the fruit.
At this time, there was a knock at the door, and the person responsible for bringing dinner finally arrived.
Shen Feifei immediately had a feeling of relief and gently breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Please come in."
The door of the ward was pushed open, and a middle-aged woman came in, with the meal in her hand.
"Put it here. I'll just do that later." Zhou Xiaomin glanced up at the table.