I’d be stupid to trust him, even if he actually sent it, who knows when it will arrive.
"You all seem quite attentive to her," the doctor said, with a hint of implication.
To prevent him from gossiping with Mrs. Fan, the servant pulled out a long-prepared explanation: "The master instructed us to take good care of the Third Miss."
Fan Rou’s position in the family had improved recently; the doctor had heard as much, so he wasn’t particularly surprised.
"Alright then, co with ." The doctor opened the car door.
The servant said a word to the butler before getting in.
Fan Rou remained unconscious until she finally woke up the next day.
Her just-opened eyes were again squinted shut by the bright light.
"Third Miss, you’re awake. Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?" the servant asked with concern.
Fan Rou slowly opened her eyes, adjusted for a bit, moved slightly, and felt dizzy. She reached out her hand, wanting to touch where it hurt.
The servant grabbed her hand, saying: "Third Miss, you have a slight injury on your head, you must not move recklessly."
Upon hearing this, Fan Rou’s mory imdiately returned. Rembering last night’s events, her face grew sullen, and a fierce look appeared in her eyes.
"Third Miss, you must be careful, she ca in to search your room last night," the servant said in a low voice.
"Let her search, she won’t find anything," Fan Rou said with great confidence.
How could she ever let her find any evidence? Not to ntion, any useful evidence would be kept in a secret hidden file.
As for any evidence used by her, she would destroy it afterward—what could Mrs. Fan find?
As for the phone numbers of key contacts, she usually morized them.
Hence, apart from the contacts of the Fan family and several school teachers, principals, and students, there would be nothing else in the address book.
Fan Rou did everything flawlessly.
Hearing her say this, the servant felt reassured.
"Third Miss, have so water," the servant poured her a glass of water.
Fan Rou looked around the room, finding no one had co to see her, she chuckled self-deprecatingly.
What was she expecting?
"The master left last night." As if knowing what Fan Rou was expecting, the servant shattered her last bit of expectation.
It’s not that it’s not cruel, but rather that the truth itself is cruel.
"I understand," Fan Rou said, lying on the bed weakly.
"I’ll go get so food." Seeing Fan Rou’s not-so-good expression, the servant decided not to poke at her sore spot.
After finishing her porridge, Fan Rou waved to the servant: "You can go out first."
Seeing her exhausted deanor, the servant didn’t say much more and closed the door on the way out.
Just then, Ye Ranran called.
Fan Rou originally didn’t want to answer, but upon seeing it was Ye Ranran calling, she picked up.
"Ranran." Fan Rou’s voice carried a hint of sobbing.
Last night, the mont her head hit the table, she felt dizzy, and for a brief mont, she thought she was going to die.
She wasn’t afraid of death; she was already prepared for a bad end when she embarked on this path.
But she didn’t want to die at the hands of Mrs. Fan.
She had killed her mother, and if she were to die by her hands this ti, she swore even if she beca a vengeful ghost, she’d co back to haunt her to death.
Hearing sothing amiss in Fan Rou’s voice, Ye Ranran anxiously asked, "What’s wrong? Have you encountered any trouble? Are you in danger? Where are you now?"
Hearing the concern in Ye Ranran’s voice, Fan Rou laughed again: "It’s nothing, I just missed you."
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