No place for the wheelchair to go up and down, the servant couldn't help but ask, "Miss Song, how did you get down here?"
"Are you asking me?" Song Yuan raised her head. Though sitting, her demeanor was high and mighty, "Who do you think you are to talk to me?"
"Oh."
The servant curled his lips, not looking very pleased, but since he was standing behind the wheelchair, Song Yuan couldn't see his expression.
The host family was always kind, thinking to themselves that a guest who insists on staying shouldn't act like the master and order the servants around as if they were noble.
Since the guest hadn't asked him to leave, he just stood there, still putting on a display as though he had no solution for the steps.
Song Yuan waited, the servant's perceptiveness was too lacking, her patience waning, her clenched hand slammed hard on the wheelchair's armrest.
She shouted, "Why are you standing there, lift!"
The servant's eyes widened, "Miss Song, lift where?"
