The woman's eyes lit up at the sight. She could clearly see that Zhu Wan'Er's eyes were red, as if she were desperately holding back tears.
'What's going on? Did the father and daughter have a fight?'
'This is great!'
Just as the woman was silently celebrating, Zhu Zeyuan, inside the room, let out a soft sigh. He then spoke to Uncle Zhong, who had just entered with a bowl of medicine.
"Xiaozhongzi, I'm having some regrets now."
"I shouldn't have been so iron-fisted in raising Wan'Er. As a result, she never received a bit of warmth from me growing up."
Uncle Zhong didn't say a word. He simply lifted Zhu Zeyuan's head and carefully fed him the medicinal broth.
After he finished, Zhu Zeyuan lay back down, exhausted. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he asked.
"Do you think Wan'Er hates me?"
"Everyone has seen how filial the Young Miss is to you, Master. How could she possibly hate you?" Uncle Zhong said with a smile.
