Li Jiaqi hid alone in the bathroom, crying for a long time, until her tears went sore and her legs grew numb.
It wasn't until someone knocked on the door that she hastily washed her face and opened the door.
He Yingdong's figure was already gone, and the ashtray on the coffee table was full, with many unfinished half-smoked cigarettes left.
It was the maid standing outside, holding a tray in her hand.
On the tray, there were two bowls: one was dark Chinese medicine, and the other was chicken soup.
"Miss Li, I have prepared your Chinese medicine. Do you want to drink it now? By the way, the Third Young Master instructed when he left that you should drink the chicken soup."
Li Jiaqi reached out, tidied her hair, and walked in briskly.
She poured the Chinese medicine into the toilet, then put the bowl back, "Throw away all my Chinese medicine, I won't drink it anymore. And here, you have the chicken soup. Look at you, your complexion is so bad!"
