"Master Qingfeng, what happened to my unfilial son? Did he lay a hand on you?" Prime Minister Tu's voice rang out from outside the door.
Hua Rong immediately got up and walked towards the door.
Tu Zijun breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time felt a sense of loss.
Then his anger drove away this strange feeling; this bald monk was just too arrogant!
Ugh! He's so angry!
Hua Rong managed to coax Prime Minister Tu and his entourage away with just a few words.
Having observed countless people, she could tell that Prime Minister Tu was genuinely afraid that she would be bullied by Tu Zijun.
She looked at Tu Zijun, who was still glaring at her from the bed, and felt a pang of sympathy.
How incompetent must one be to be suspected by their own father, who keeps calling them a "bastard son"? How pathetic.
She sat on the edge of the bed and said in a low voice, "Promise me you won't scream, and I'll release your pressure points."
Tu Zijun continued to stare at her defiantly.
Hua Rong glanced at a certain part of his body and chuckled, "Your father has been worried about your illness for a long time, and I can cure you. You don't want to see him worrying about you at his age, do you? If you agree, blink three times in a row."
Tu Zijun hesitated, but he blinked three times to indicate his agreement. However, his gaze towards her was still filled with shame and indignation.
Hua Rong was satisfied and put away the silver needles before releasing his acupoints.
"You bald monk!" Tu Zijun roared in a low voice, then stood up and grabbed Hua Rong by the neck with both hands.
Hua Rong glanced at him helplessly, then gently pushed him onto the bed.
But then he pulled me, and I pounced on him too...
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