The corner of the middle-aged man's mouth was twisted unusually, different from the mouth of Song's grandson-in-law, Chen the Third.
When Chen the Third didn't speak, his mouth wasn't that crooked, and besides the slight slant, he had no issues speaking or eating.
But the one lying in bed, his mouth was so crooked that saliva would occasionally drip.
The expression on his entire face was stiff.
Ling Yuezi held a handkerchief, frequently wiping the drool from him.
Looking at this person, it seemed as if evil had penetrated his body, according to Li Yuzhu's words, it was wind-stroke.
"Miss, Mr. Li made an egg custard, and I brought it over," Ah Qing walked over and said.
Ling Yuezi turned her head, glanced at Li Xingsheng, her gaze landed on the egg custard.
"Bring it here," she nodded.
Ah Qing placed the tray on the small table next to Ling Yuezi.
Ling Yuezi uncovered the bowl, and upon seeing the egg custard inside, she was slightly startled.
