The car sped all the way, and Fu Nancheng didn’t know how he got her into the operating room.
But he had no choice but to wait.
When Yan Jiu arrived, he saw a pale man, his hands covered in blood, sitting dazedly on a bench in the corridor, like he had lost his soul.
"Third Brother."
Fu Nancheng still didn’t react at all, his eyes bloodshot, filled with the image of her small face with tightly closed eyes.
"Zhaoran just went in; she’ll be alright." Yan Jiu spoke again, looking towards the direction of the operating room, his gaze more solemn.
He had just heard that the other party was a professional hitman, hired, and ca prepared with a large-caliber sniper rifle.
So now, they could only hope that Qiao Mo wasn’t dood!
Yan Jiu didn’t sit down but leaned against the wall beside Fu Nancheng, lit a cigarette, held it in his mouth, and then offered one to Fu Nancheng.
Fu Nancheng’s gaze fell on the cigarette in front of him. It took several seconds for his eyes to focus.
His fingers trembled slightly, and he slowly took it with his blood-stained fingers.
He took out a lighter and tried to light it.
But his large trembling hand seed uncontrollable, and the flickering blue fla couldn’t hit the end of the cigarette.
Until the fla on the lighter went out, then reignited.
This repeated several tis, the end of the cigarette was already a bit blackened, yet it still hadn’t been lit.
Yan Jiu frowned worriedly, took out the lighter, shielded it with his hand, and skillfully lit it for him.
Fu Nancheng took a deep drag, trying to quell the anxiety in his heart, but the hand holding the cigarette remained colder than the snow and ice of a winter night.
Outside, the sound of firecrackers crackled, and the nearby shops played jubilant songs, carrying a bit of holiday spirit, bustling with excitent.
As the sky turned from white to black, red lanterns lit up in every household, and clusters of fireworks exploded like a sea of flowers in the night sky, yet it only made the hospital corridor colder and emptier by contrast.
At Fu Nancheng’s feet, cigarette butts piled up, his eyes bloodshot, enduring in silence.
He had never felt ti move this slowly, each minute and second a tornt.
He also never imagined that he would fall in love with another woman, unknowingly, and never be able to let go...
In the blink of an eye, it was the next morning.
The light in the operating room was still on, and Fu Nancheng maintained his previous posture, seemingly unmoved throughout the night.
About half an hour later, the light in the operating room finally went out.
Fu Nancheng and Yan Jiu simultaneously stood up, their hearts trembling as they looked toward the operating room.
Before long, the door opened.
Qin Zhaoran walked out, his eyes bloodshot, a hint of fatigue on his face.
Fu Nancheng anxiously looked at him, with six or seven ters between them, yet he didn’t have the courage to step forward.
Why hadn’t Xiao Mo co out?
Why hadn’t she co out...
He was afraid... of not hearing the answer he wanted.
If that were the case, he’d rather... wait like this forever.
Qin Zhaoran stopped, no need to say much, eting his anxious gaze, he nodded slightly at him.
Fu Nancheng was sowhat dazed, a mist in his pitch-black eyes, and finally, a faint curve appeared at the corner of his lips. He muttered to himself, "She’s okay... she’s okay..."
"She’s okay..."
Soon after, two nurses ca out, Qin Zhaoran instructed them on sothing, and then approached the two.
Before he could step closer, Yan Jiu stopped him with a hand, a questioning look in his eyes.
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