Ling Ran stood in the vast changing room, where a dozen tailors and designers had already sewn a prototype of the wedding dress...
His fingers brushed over the patterns on the dress, inspecting every detail closely: "This wedding dress was designed for you by Feng. Isn't it beautiful? Do you like it?"
Li Qiyu wanted so badly to set the place on fire, rush up to knock over the mannequin wearing the dress, and grab Ling Ran by the collar: "Give him the injection!"
"It's already been given."
"He's been running a fever—"
"His fever is due to his own weak constitution, it has nothing to do with me."
Little Tianci, after all, was just a child; his body couldn't withstand the repeated fevers.
"But I asked the doctor, as long as he gets through this one, he will develop immunity and it won't be as painful in the future," Ling Ran said coldly. "As long as you cooperate with me, he just needs to take medication daily and won't get sick anymore."
"If this continues, he will die—"
