As November arrived, winter was approaching. In the morning, a thin mist had already started to drift between the city's skyscrapers.
Jian Xi no longer gave Jian Qing money, but occasionally, she would still check on Jian Qing's situation.
"Director Jian, Jian Qing's condition is very stable, the cancer cells have not spread, and he himself still doesn't know about this situation."
"Alright."
Jian Xi felt a little relieved.
Knowing that a relative is ill, it's really difficult for her to just stand by and do nothing.
In her leisure time, she would visit Master Yao to play with clay. However, there were many company affairs, and her visits to the Pottery Art Gallery were pitifully few.
Nan Mufeng was also very busy, but he would come home early every night, and occasionally even come to her company at noon to have lunch and take a nap with her.
