The old man's inexplicable words made Xia Weibao pause for a moment.
She looked around; there were only two people in the ward, her and the old man.
Xia Weibao pointed at her own nose, "Sir, are you talking to me?"
The old man's sharp, deep eyes locked tightly on her face, "Besides you, is there a third person in the ward?"
Xia Weibao was even more puzzled, "Do you know my dad?"
The word 'dad' was very unfamiliar to her.
In both her past and present life, she never had a father.
Yan Lingyi said that the father of this body was called Ma Xingfeng, and he was already dead.
Hearing about her father from another person's mouth felt completely foreign, just foreign.
The old man stared straight ahead, his gaze somewhat distant, seemingly reminiscing about something.
"Your father was also a medical prodigy. He had extraordinary comprehension of traditional Chinese medicine from a young age, but you are even better than him.
