Before Qiao Qing could speak, Zhou Xin already sighed and shook his head, "The young master is terminally ill. No doctors of god can cure him now."
Qiao Qing then dragged him out of the room.
Outside the room, Qiao Qing stared at Zhou Xin, "Tell me, how did he get sick?"
Zhou Xin said, "Ms. Qiao, please don't make this hard for me. The young master doesn't want me to say…"
Qiao Qing, "If you don't tell me, how do I find out how to save him?!"
Zhou Xin said, "Ms. Qiao, I know you know medicine, but as I said, the young master is terminally ill. If there was a way to save him, with his wealth, why would he have given up?"
"Today, doctors can't heal those in a vegetative state," Qiao Qing said, "But I found a way. How will you know if you don't let me try?!"
Zhou Xin said, "It took Ms. Qiao three years to save someone in a vegetative state. So how many years will it take you to cure the young master's illness?"
