Song Jingwan stopped in her tracks. She clenched her hands that were hanging by her side, and her sharp nails dug into her palms.
It was as if she could not feel the pain, and her eyes were cold.
"Aiya, lower your voice. If anyone hears you again..."
The voice became softer and softer, and soon, Song Jingwan could not hear it anymore.
She pursed her lips.
Was that sympathy?
Yes, now anyone could sympathize with her!
"Have you changed the medicine? What did the doctor say?"
Song Wenchuan took the medicine and asked with concern.
No matter how disappointed he was with his sister in the past, now that he saw her face constantly shrinking, Song Wenchuan could no longer feel the slightest bit of dissatisfaction.
She was such a prideful girl. Ever since she was young, the thing she loved the most was to be noticed by others. Now that her face was ruined, Song Wenchuan had nightmares that Song Jingwan would take it too hard.
