Hold On Mr.! Your Sweetheart is a Real Queen

Chapter 132: Chapter 132: A Dream of Yellow Millet

At this moment, Daisy Ginger felt a sense of desolation, akin to Ian Linton, "fellow sufferers driven apart in the vast world."

Edward Stephens doesn’t love her, just as Emily Ginger doesn’t love him.

——A bit humiliating, and a bit helpless.

Daisy Ginger lifted her head and smiled faintly at Ian Linton, "I’m on leave today, came to check on Emily. How is she now?"

"Mr. Stephens has been taking care of her these days..." At this point, a trace of embarrassment appeared on Ian Linton’s refined and handsome face. Even though his character is gentle and non-aggressive, it’s hard to speak of these things when his fiancée won’t let him approach, but allows another man to care for her, "Her mental state has stabilized a lot. Nurses and doctors can also go in for a short while, but she still needs sedative injections."

"But you’re still not allowed inside?"

"...Yes." Ian Linton sounded a bit at a loss, "She doesn’t allow me and my mother to get close, I can only bring food from home and let Mr. Stephens take it in."

"Have they found out the reason?"

head helplessly, "I don’t know... that night she suddenly ran out, I was still at the office, if I’d returned home earlier that day." He took a deep breath at this point, and a regretful expression appeared on his face, his tone somewhat pained, "Doctors also couldn’t

Ginger was slightly tongue-tied—according to Ian Linton, when Emily showed up at

helpless gaze and breakdown expression, again feeling it

of words at the time did have

so she simply stopped trying—the doctors haven’t figured it out, how could she, an outsider, make

the thermos bottle, saying softly,

say anything

and inside. Ian Linton, on the other hand, already felt so awkward that he had nothing to say, and after handing off the thermos bottle, he moved to the side, lit a

Stephens turned and entered the

the hallway and walked over, sympathetically saying, "Ian,

maintained before Edward Stephens seeming to crack slightly now, he

her hand and

on his cigarette, his tone somewhat bitter and resigned, "Perhaps, everything good