After Xiao Lingqiu left, Jiang Shouzhong, feeling bored, decided to knock on the door of the neighboring room belonging to Fang.
Inside, the old servant Mo Bailing was giving Fang a herbal foot bath.
Due to long-term reliance on a wheelchair, Fang's legs appeared unusually skinny and were slightly atrophied, with a pale blueish tinge to the skin.
The entire room was filled with a faint medicinal fragrance.
"To be honest, you should find a pretty maid to attend to you personally."
Jiang Shouzhong joked.
Fang chuckled softly: "I'm not as charming as Jiang Shouzhong, surrounded by women. Which woman in the world would fancy a cripple like me?"
"Some people don't care about appearances, only the inner self matters."
Jiang Shouzhong casually picked up a collection of poems from the table.
Strangely, it was a children's primer poetry book, and some characters in the poems were deliberately erased, making the originally smooth verses awkward to read.
Fang looked at him earnestly: