She followed the doctor's instructions, paid the money, drank more water, and prepared for the ultrasound examination.
This hospital was somewhat remote, very crowded early in the morning with local residents, all speaking in a thick Hai City dialect.
Outside the ultrasound room, most of those waiting were mothers or grandmothers accompanying pregnant women for check-ups, all acquainted with each other, creating a noisy atmosphere.
With a throbbing headache, Ji Anning walked into the stairwell, extremely exhausted, and sat down on the stairs, bending over.
In a small, clear disposable cup, the water was still a bit hot; she held it with both hands, staring blankly out the window around the corner.
A pile of obligations, a pile of troubles, a pile of emotions.
Yet even this tired, even not knowing why she lived, she still wanted to live.
Her hands could feel that the temperature of the water was almost drinkable, she shifted her vacant gaze, bringing the cup to her lips.
