Even If I'm Not Sick, I'll Get Sick From Holding It In

"It's my fault for speaking carelessly and making you feel uncomfortable for no reason." Hui Xiang suddenly heaved a sigh of relief. It turned out that Miss was worried about Madam.

It was also because she had forgotten that Madam had previously instructed her to tell Young Miss as little about the residence as possible in the future, in case Young Miss worried and got in the way.

Yu Jianjia lowered her head. There was a ball of ink on the snow-white paper, which was really dazzling. She crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it into the wastebasket.

She laid out a new piece of paper and wrote a few words. Then, the phrase that Yu Youyao had written appeared in her mind again. For some reason, she felt that the small handwriting that she had been so proud of was too feminine.

Yu Jianjia frowned slightly. "When Cousin Zhou first came to the residence, where did you keep the calligraphy notes that he gave me? Go and find them!"