enly seemed insignificant.She finally spoke.“What's she doing going to Huā'ān City” He couldn’t possibly be asking her to attend her ex-wife’s funeral, could he" Qiao Zhen had no relatives or friends...Having a cold and fever, going to the emergency room in the middle of the night is more tiring than just sleeping at home and recovering quickly. Although that's the case, Han Li felt much better in her heart because she felt Zhao Tingxing's hard-earned warmth.

She sat in the passenger seat, only occasionally glancing at the person driving beside her. She knew things were different this time.

Zhao Tingxing was a little agitated at the moment. He wasn't a patient person, and he had been very busy with work these past two days, feeling overwhelmed and stressed. He was about to head back to his hotel when he suddenly remembered she was sick, so he asked his driver to bring him here. He pressed the doorbell twice but got no answer. His calls also went straight to voicemail. Had she died

Her door lock is multi-functional, it can recognize faces and use passwords. When outputting the password, she subconsciously entered those numbers. They were the password for the bank card they used together back then, or perhaps all the places where he needed a password later on used that string of digits. For him, there wasn't any special meaning to it, just habit, easy to remember.

When the door creaked open, he was surprised to find it was correct. Without hesitation, he went straight to her bedroom and saw that she was delirious with fever, drenched in sweat. So, without a word, he scooped her up and took her to the hospital.

At this moment, with his eyes on the road, he simply said to her, "The point of working hard and making money is to improve our lives, to escape the hardships that poverty brings. It's not about reliving this kind of ordinary life."

He was referring to her going to the public hospital today.

His thinking is simple and crude. If you have money, of course you should enjoy the best treatment. Otherwise, what's the point of working hard to make money

Han Li felt a moment of emotion and blurted out, "I just want to experience what it was like to be poor with you in the past."

This sentence must have hit Zhao Tingxing's sore spot, his expression suddenly turned cold and his tone laced with sarcasm: "I don't want to, nor do I have the time and energy to reminisce about the past with you."

The atmosphere in the car, which was just warm and affectionate a moment ago, suddenly turned cold.

"Sorry," Han Li's voice was still hoarse. She didn't speak again after that, sitting in the passenger seat leaning against the back of the chair, closing her eyes to rest. It was almost 4 am at this point. She needed to rest; she could still sleep for another 4 hours. At 10 am, there was a bidding competition downstairs that required her presence.

Looking at Zhao Tingxing's temper, she thought he would turn around and leave after sending her home. But he didn't. He silently followed her back home, without a word, and went straight into the guest room where he slept last night, as if it were his own house.

Han Li was both surprised and amused. He was acting a bit like Han Zhao! Every time she got angry with him, he'd pretend she wasn't there, hiding off to play with his toys until he calmed down, then running back to cling to her.

She was wondering how long Zhao Tingxing could stay angry.

Back in her own room, she drifted off to sleep as she thought.

I don't know how long I slept, or even if it was a dream or reality. Zhao Tingxing was kissing me, and I was responding to him. Suddenly, I woke up, opened my eyes, and sure enough, it was him. It wasn't a dream.

He was very domineering at this time, not allowing any resistance, "Don't you want to reminisce about the past I'll accompany you."

No more hard times, this is something worth reminiscing about. He recalled his youth on the construction site where there were no other entertainment options. He worked all day long, just to pass the time.

Hàn Lì's fever had broken, aside from a little soreness in her throat, there were no other symptoms. Being pestered by him, she hoarsely requested: "Let me have some water first."

After breathing grew heavier, my throat felt even thirstier.

The man didn't have a shred of sympathy: "If your throat hurts, just stop being so reckless and shut up."d more meetings. Even social events are rare these days.But now every time he sends out a schedule, he adds a note at the end: Ms. Lu is filming on set.Of course, the richness of this annotation would...