"Uncle Bo, thank you." Beitang Yao choked up as he took the glass of water.
Bo paused, doubting his ears. Beitang Yao had been to their house a few times, but he always had a cold demeanor, merely nodding as a gesture of greeting to anyone, let alone expressing thanks?
Bo's gaze fell once more on the tightly closed door of the operating room. The girl who had been pushed inside had no color on her face, pale as paper, as if she might disappear if one wasn't careful. Was it because of her that the forever indifferent Beitang Yao had learned to express gratitude?
That girl's charm was indeed immense, reminding him of a time when he had encountered such a woman...
During the silence, two footsteps, one heavy and one light, echoed down the corridor.
"Dad, how is she now? Is she alright?" Bai Junhao rushed over and, seeing his father standing there, asked anxiously.
