Oops, he accidentally said the word "cripple" again, and Hong Jingtian wanted to cover his mouth but it was too late.
Hong Jingtian truly worried about Qin Xin’s marital happiness.
After all, they were all doctors, familiar with the human body, so what happiness could there be in marrying a cripple?
Therefore, he asked the question sincerely, blurting it out without thinking.
As soon as he finished speaking, before Qin Xin could respond.
A cold, deep male voice sounded from behind: "My happiness with Xin doesn’t seem to be your concern, does it?"
The man’s tone was refined, yet damnably cold, chilling to the bone.
It made Hong Jingtian shiver, even in the air-conditioned surgery room: "Mr. Nalan, why, why are you here?"
He could almost bite his tongue off, oh dear, although he had talked behind people’s backs before, this was the first time he got caught on the spot, how embarrassing.
Nalan Ye Jue wheeled forward slowly.
To avoid disrupting the surgery, he added a shock absorber to his wheelchair, so he entered quietly.
He reached Qin Xin’s side, handing her a bottle of juice with a straw for her to sip.
Then he leisurely glanced at Hong Jingtian, with a cool gaze: "But you’re not wrong, I am indeed a cripple."
Hong Jingtian almost cried: "Mr. Emperor, I, I was just joking earlier, don’t, don’t be angry, you’re so tall, mighty, healthy, strong, I’m sure you and Queen are happy, definitely happy."
Nalan Ye Jue said flatly: "As a doctor, you can’t be so idealistic. It’s not what you think but what is factual."
Hong Jingtian: "Yes, yes, yes!"
Nalan Ye Jue: "How do you know I’m right without any verification? Is the Red Society really making a fickle person like you its president?"
Hong Jingtian was about to break down: "..."
He prided himself on his eloquent and rapid-fire tongue, unmatched in the medical field, but facing Mr. Emperor, he realized that all his verbal skills were useless; not stuttering under Mr. Emperor’s aura was already a feat.
He looked towards Qin Xin for help.
Qin Xin instructed faintly: "Bring me the suture thread."
Hong Jingtian quickly brought various types of suture threads like he was saved: "Which length and thickness do you need?"
Qin Xin: "Too thin won’t do."
Hong Jingtian: "This one is good, it’s thick, durable, and resilient..."
Suddenly, the indoor air fell silent for a moment.
An enigmatic silence.
Hong Jingtian shut his mouth tightly, even pressing his lips together.
Oh dear, did he say something wrong again???
In great anguish, Hong Jingtian finally completed the most terrifying surgical suture of his life under Nalan Ye Jue’s cold gaze.
Seeing Xiangxiang’s vital signs stable and the surgery successful, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and made his escape: "Queen, Mr. Emperor, I’m going to the restroom."
In the restroom, relaxing while solving his issue, he sighed: "The ancients were right, food can be eaten carelessly, but words mustn’t be spoken carelessly..."
The men’s restroom door suddenly opened.
Nalan Ye Jue entered unhurriedly, without glancing sideways, standing up with one hand supporting his wheelchair, his back straight, his posture refined, at the urinal next to Hong Jingtian...XX.
Hong Jingtian hadn’t reacted yet, stupidly turned his head to greet: "Hello, Mr. Emperor..."
Then he took a look.
He had actually asked Queen such a stupid question earlier.
Are they happy?
Mr. Emperor is only crippled in the leg, but he’s certainly not impaired.