But as soon as they reached the door, they saw an uninvited guest.

His father, Ji Wangyuan, and his father's stepmother, Zhu Lingling.

"Xiao Bei, didn't the hospital say you were critically ill? Your dad and I were so worried!" Zhu Lingling looked Ji Bei up and down. "How come you can get out of bed now?"

"Is your condition stable? What did the doctor say?"

Ji Bei sneered: "What, you knew I was critically ill and rushed here for my funeral? Sorry, I'm perfectly fine."

"What are you saying, child?" Zhu Lingling gave a stiff laugh, then quickly continued, "Xiao Bei, the bank manager said that you've withdrawn over 50 million from your account?"

"That's over fifty million! Where did you spend it?"

The Ji family is wealthy, but not extremely rich; fifty million is still a considerable sum for them.

Zhu Lingling was just waiting for her stepson to die so she could pocket the money.

Ji Bei ignored her: "It's my money, I can spend it however I want, it's none of your business."

"Ji Bei!" Ji Wangyuan, who had been silent all along, frowned and said, "Do you think I want your little bit of money? You don't know what's good for you! If your stepmother didn't care about you, I wouldn't bother coming to the hospital to see you in this unruly state!"

Ji Bei's face immediately darkened.

“He invested his money in me. You two can ask me any questions.” A clear female voice rang out, and Ji Bei’s expression changed. He immediately looked in the direction of the voice.

Bai Yan, dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, was walking by. With bright eyes and red lips, she smiled slightly as she looked at him.

Ji Bei's mood suddenly brightened; she had come to see him.