"How is she?" Muxilin strode to the bedside, nervously looking at the Tang poem lying on the bedside, frowning, "isn't it acute gastroenteritis? Why didn't you give me a drop? "

"Shhh..." Xiaomei hurriedly reminded him to keep his voice down. "Sir, miss is asleep. Don't wake him up. Come with me and I'll tell you what happened."

muxilin reached out to explore the forehead temperature of Tang poetry and made sure that she was not having a fever. Then he let go of her heart and followed Xiaomei to the rest room next door.

"what?" After listening to Xiaomei's complaint, Mu Xilin's brow was even tighter. "Are you sure...