It’s just that the weather has been hot these past few days, and he’s basically stayed in the hospital room, not going out much during the day, and only going out for a walk in the evening after the sun has set.
Mr. Zachmann thought of this and couldn’t help but say, "What brand is the health supplent you bought? I think it’s way more effective than regular health products. This dicine is really quite good!"
He was generous with his praise, yet he didn’t know that the so-called ’health supplent’ he was talking about was sothing sought after on the black market, now almost impossible to find!
The bottle Nathalie Quinlan gave him had as many as 20 pills; if sold on the black market, the entire market would be buzzing.
Unfortunately, Mr. Zachmann didn’t know that what Nathalie gave him was a black market pill; he thought it was a health supplent unique to the local No. 1 Middle School in McKinney.
"That dicine... it would be great if it could be promoted more widely." Mr. Zachmann, finding it effective, couldn’t help but feel a little sentintal.
Nathalie walked over to tuck him in, her eyes dimming slightly at his words. She pulled back her hand, stood in front of his hospital bed again, and softly said, "There will be a day for that."
"Really?" Mr. Zachmann just ntioned it casually, thinking it was quite a pity that such a good traditional dicine supplent was only available in McKinney.
But upon hearing the girl say it would be promoted nationwide in the future, he couldn’t help but feel happy, a smile appearing on his face that hadn’t been seen in a long ti.
He looked at his little granddaughter and noticed the oranges on the cabinet, hurriedly instructing his eldest son, "Why haven’t you peeled an orange for Nathalie? The orange on my bedside cabinet is very sweet. Peel one for Nathalie! You big man, seriously, I always have to tell you what to do before you know how to act."
"Yes, yes, Dad, I was wrong." Stanley Zachmann seed like a kid in front of Mr. Zachmann; as soon as the old man lectured him, he imdiately went to do it, picking up the orange on the cabinet. Pleasantly, he said to Nathalie Quinlan, "Nathalie, wait a mont, I’ll peel one for you. See if it’s sweet."
Nathalie wasn’t particularly fond of oranges, but she couldn’t resist the enthusiasm of both Stanley and Mr. Zachmann, so she agreed with a soft sound and didn’t refuse.
Caryn Zachmann and Hendrik Zachmann were also in the room, watching Nathalie beco the center of attention in the hospital room from the mont she walked in.
Not to ntion their uncle, even Mr. Zachmann had that attitude; their attitude seed far from wanting to confront Nathalie, but rather indulgent beyond asure.
Caryn was irritated to laughter; she stood there, her apricot eyes filled with mockery as she watched the harmonious scene of fatherly love and filial piety.
She couldn’t hold back and spoke coldly, "Uncle, Grandpa, have you forgotten sothing?"
Not only Hendrik, but even Stanley frowned heavily at this, his expression turning cold as he looked at her with the orange in hand, responding flatly, "Oh, what did I forget?"
Hendrik saw the expression on his uncle’s face and rembered just outside the door when his uncle had privately confronted him, bearing the sa expression.
Disappointnt, anger, and repressed indifference.
As if utterly disappointed in him and Caryn!
Hendrik felt a sting in his heart, not daring to et Stanley’s eyes. After a mont of hesitation, he decided he had to address it.
He pulled Caryn aside, signaling her to stop talking, then bypassed her to greet the girl with a laid-back deanor, adopting a gentle attitude, "So, you’re Nathalie? Hello, I’m Hendrik Zachmann, your older brother."
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