More precisely, it was the thermal container in the driver's hand.
Earlier, while Tang Li was dining in the restaurant, she caught the scent of chicken soup wafting from the kitchen.
Lai Wenyan suffered an abdominal injury, and Old Madam Lai had cholecystitis. Both had to avoid greasy food, so the chicken soup could only be for someone else.
The driver followed Tang Li's gaze and then explained: "Madam just had a miscarriage. Aunt Liu said chicken soup replenishes blood, so she asked me to bring it over for Madam."
Upon hearing this, Tang Li bent down and got in the car.
As the driver fastened his seatbelt, Tang Li asked, "Are you new here?"
"Yes." The other party replied respectfully, "Miss Tang can call me Xiao Liang."
"Are you related to Old Liang?"
"He is my uncle."
Tang Li again scrutinized the driver in the rearview mirror.
He was a fair-looking young man.
About twenty-four or twenty-five years old.
In her previous life, she had never seen such a person.
