Tuen Mun Psychiatric Hospital.
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Rong. Yes, you're right,"
Xue Wenhai stood in front of Wenle's hospital bed, a smile on his face. He was on the phone with someone, his expression casual and untroubled.
The straitjacket had been removed from Wenle, even the bruises on his wrists and neck had been treated with ice packs, mostly reducing the swelling. He glanced up at Xue Wenhai on the phone, picked up a full-color "Old Master" from the table beside him, and started reading keenly, sitting up on the bed.
"Hahaha, you must be joking...uh-huh, of course, certainly."
Vivian cautiously came over, handing a cup of hot water to Xue Wenhai and one to Wenle as well.
Xue Wenhai hung up the phone silently, blew gently on the steam coming from the cup, stared at the trembling surface for a while, then suddenly splashed the entire cup of water onto Wenle's face. The water dripped down from his chin into his collar, and the "Old Master" was also soaked through.
