"If you won't say it, then don't say it. What's the big deal!" Mu Dazhong covered his face and stood aside.
Zhang Huai Shu was invited into the house by Mr. Mu.
As usual, he checked Mu Xiangxiang's pulse.
But this time, the expression on Zhang Huai Shu's face was worth investigating.
He furrowed his brows tightly and turned to sweep a glance at everyone in the Old Mu Family.
"How on earth have you been taking care of the patient? Why is she so thin? Didn't you give this girl anything to eat? Why is the fever so severe? And her throat—it's like she doesn't want it anymore, eating something as spicy as chili."
Zhang Huai Shu asked Mr. Mu with a dark face.
But Mr. Mu didn't know any of this.
The one taking care of Xiangxiang was Mrs. Lin.
And the one arranging the meals was also Mrs. Lin.
As for the typhoid fever, everyone was even more clueless.
"What did you say? Didn't eat? And ate chili?" Old Mrs. Mu paused her movements wiping Mu Xiangxiang's face.
