"I'll leave it to you then."
Zhao Dong offered no explanation and immediately headed behind the curtain.
His eyes fell upon a wooden double bed missing a leg. On it were sheets that had been washed until they were a faded white. A little girl, only about five or six years old, lay on the bed, her face contorted in pain. She was covered with a thick blanket but was still shivering from the cold.
The little girl had perfectly inherited Wang Jing's genes and was just as cute and pretty.
Looking at her, Zhao Dong was momentarily lost in a trance. The little girl looked so much like Wang Jing from back in the day.
Snapping out of his daze, Zhao Dong quickly grabbed Xiaoya's arm. As Spiritual Energy flowed into her body, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a simple cold and fever, but it seemed severe because she was malnourished.
He dispelled the chill in Xiaoya's body, and her breathing steadied in just a few moments.
