Qin Yang's eyes were brimming with a smile as he tugged her arm, "Master has said I will recover, so don't worry."
Lin Chuxia knew she was being impatient, but every time she thought about the possibility of Qin Yang not being able to hold a pen, her heart ached for the loss of such an outstanding designer for the country.
"I get it, I get it. Just asking a few more questions, why are you in a rush? Hurting our master-disciple relationship, you're becoming stingier as you get older."
Despite her words, her hands were continuously busy.
She opened a can of food that she had brought and handed it over, "Hurry up and eat some canned food to quell the fire and calm down."
Qin Yang's eyes twinkled with a touch of amusement seeing the way these two interacted.
His wife was like a little sun, warm and passionate.
He probably understood why Old Sir He had taken her as a disciple.
