In the study, Xie Jingchen sat there frowning.
He couldn't control the urge to know what's wrong with her.
The door creaked open.
Xingxing came in and said, "Young Master, the young lady asked me to fetch some pen, ink, paper, and inkstone."
She walked forward to pick up the inkstone.
Xie Jingchen asked, "How is she?"
"The young lady is still in pain," Xingxing replied.
"Still not better?" Xie Jingchen's brow furrowed even more.
"It's early yet, she'll be in pain for a few days; it's an old problem, no need to worry, Young Master."
Seeing Xie Jingchen's worried face, Xingxing empathetically comforted him.
But this comfort only made Xie Jingchen's heart tighten.
An old problem?
"Does this happen often?" he asked.
Xingxing nodded, "Yes, every month she'll be in pain for a few days."
"What kind of illness is it?" Xie Jingchen asked.
"The young lady won't let me say," Xingxing replied honestly.
"...."
"I can't even know?" Xie Jingchen was displeased.
