Nan Zhi looked at what was happening in the emergency room and her chest seemed to be held tightly by an invisible black hand.
Her body could not stop shivering.
How could the old lady die?
Nan Zhi was most afraid to see the scene of people dying.
After a period of time, the medical staff pushed out the old lady, who was covered with a white cloth. Xue'er kept following behind, weeping.
Nan Zhi looked at the man who was still kneeling in the room and walked towards him stiffly.
There was no expression on his usually unruly face, but his eyes were very red, his thin lips were slightly white from being pursed too tightly.
He knelt there quietly, as if he had been frozen in time.
Unmoving.
Unmoving.
Nan Zhi came up to him, reached out her hand and held his head in her arms, pressing it to her waist.
He did not return her hug or push her away.
