Chapter 1789 Charity

"Come on, we can't compare to your medical skills." Rolande rolled her eyes at Jacob. Her cell phone rang, and she ran to answer the phone.

"Your medical skills should be good," Saoirse said as she distributed the food.

"A little," he replied mysteriously.

"You're being modest." She giggled and said, "Experts are usually secretive."

As she said this, she frowned slightly and stopped what she was doing. She put one hand on her chest and sweat dripped from her forehead.

"Do you feel a little uncomfortable?" He hurriedly helped her to a corner and sat down. Then, he stood up, stared at her for a moment, and asked, "How long have you been in pain?"

"It's been a while..." Saoirse frowned and said, "But it doesn't matter. I'll be fine after some rest."

"Your illness will not be cured by rest," Jacob frowned and said.

"But that's what the doctors suggested," she retorted.

"Not only that, but he also advised you to drink more water and exercise more, right?" He asked with a smile.