Yue Wentong's narrowed eyes furrowed when he saw someone suddenly grab Xie Wanying's sleeve.
The hand holding onto her white coat belonged to a child. Xie Wanying looked down to see a little girl, about seven years old, with a face on the verge of tears, so pitiful it tugged at one's heartstrings.
"Doctor, doctor, please save my dad, he's inside!" The child's hoarse little voice, filled with despair and anxiety, kept calling out.
"Where is your mother?" Xie Wanying couldn't help but ask the child.
It was entirely irrational for a child to be left alone here with a patient. But the current situation could only mean one thing.
"My mom is gone. I came from my hometown to spend the New Year with my dad. He works here alone." The seven-year-old child was already speaking like an adult, reporting the situation to the doctor meticulously.
Hearing this, the surrounding crowd and medical staff who could hear the child speak were just as lost for words as Xie Wanying.
