He walked over to the bedside.
Looking at Lu Ying on the bed, her little face deathly pale, her whole body giving off an icy chill.
Chen Feng frowned, then sat down by the bed, gently pulled Lu Ying's right hand out from under the quilt, placed his own right hand on her right wrist, and began to take her pulse.
Seeing this, Zhao Fang carefully stood by Chen Feng's side, not daring to make a sound and disturb him.
But her face was full of tension and worry, and her pair of time-worn hands were clenched tightly together.
Because all the money at home had already been spent on treating Lu Ying's illness.
And before this, she had spent so much money, found so many famous experts, yet none of them could find the cause of Lu Ying's illness.
Zhao Fang had already been desperate enough.
Now that Lu Ying's condition had worsened, she was even more utterly desperate.
And Chen Feng was truly her last hope at this moment, you could say he was the last life-saving straw.
