"Quick, cover the quilt!"

The butcher, who had just fixed the ice bag, immediately ordered two assistants to cover the flower quilt.

A quilt is not good, at least three beds, tuck in the corner, and no wind can be poured in.

Here, she shivered like a pendulum, her delicate face exposed outside quickly changed from bright red to pale, grey, as if she was not covered by a cotton quilt, but in an ice cave.

"Poor Flowers."

Doctor Tu raised her hand, wiped her forehead with sweat, and sat down on the chair in front of the bed: "All day long, she can barely keep quiet for a few...