"Mr. Rong doesn't know?"
Seeing his bewildered face, Song Cheng found a vent for his emotions and spilled out the entire process of Rong Zhi treating Rong Fangjun as if pouring beans.
At the end, he summarized with great emotion, "The incense and medicinal soup of Third Young Master are both exceptional remedies for the old man, not just for him, but for every heart and lung disease patient!"
Rong Xian'an was very confused.
He stood there stiffly, in stark contrast to the excited Song Cheng.
Song Cheng even asked him for Rong Zhi's contact details, but he couldn't hear anymore.
It shouldn't be like this...
Rong Zhi, someone who has spent eighteen years in the countryside.
How could she possibly!
...
Rong Zhi walked out of the old house.
In Beijing, September marks the beginning of autumn, and the evening wind is as cool as water, making people feel a bit cold.
She brushed the bangs on her forehead, her fox-like eyes slightly squinted.
