Guan Guiling, without a sucker, would never spend money on hospital fees, so she dragged herself home, wailing hysterically. Despite this, she had to force herself to cook for her husband and son. No matter what, she couldn't let the men go hungry.
As she cooked, she shed tears, feeling how bitter her life was, even more bitter than Huanglian. How could her own daughter be so inconsiderate? She had five dollars in her pocket, and that was gone too.
The more she thought, the more she cried. Zheng Yufeng walked in and saw her like that, his eyebrows knitting in disgust.
Although he was over forty, Zheng Yufeng was well-maintained, looking like he was only in his mid-thirties. After all, he hadn't worked these years, and even a tiny bit of trouble would send him to the hospital for rest. He had a good life at home, eating the best, as anything good in the house went straight into his mouth.
After all, he was a man and a patient.
