The two entered the ward, and Xiuyi closed the door with a backhand. Qian Xueying, carrying a thermos, approached the bed, her eyebrows slowly knitting together.
Now, Duke Locke was practically a disabled person, with the medicinal scent added on top of the old man's odd smell, the air in the ward was naturally not going to be pleasant.
After placing the thermos on the table, Qian Xueying raised her hand and pinched her nose.
"Feed him some soup, and don't forget to add salt!"
She emphasized the word "salt" in her statement, and Xiuyi understood, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.
Waving him off, Qian Xueying turned and walked into the bathroom, immediately closing the door behind her and took out perfume from her small bag to spray on herself.
Playing the role of the dutiful daughter was, of course, not easy. Despite being hardly able to tolerate the smell, she couldn't immediately leave but had to hide in the bathroom to temporarily escape it.