He was holding a bouquet of flowers, his hair neatly styled, and a white shirt tucked into his trousers, standing tall and graceful as ever.
Yet against the backdrop of the pink and white flowers, there was a touch of tenderness.
Claire Prescott's eyes lit up instantly, and she called out to him cheerfully, "President Lowell."
Keane Lowell's gaze fell on the bowl of dark medicinal soup in front of her, and he walked toward her with steady steps.
Halfway, the young lady rushed into his arms, embracing his waist affectionately.
He naturally opened his arms and hugged her.
The scent of medicine on her was particularly strong, and as he held her, he felt she seemed a bit frail today.
If not for the bodyguard here telling him she didn't look well today, he wouldn't have been able to make time to see her now.
He placed a kiss on her forehead and asked, "What medicine are you drinking?"
Claire pondered for a moment, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes.
