On the other side.
Mo Chu was standing guard in front of Mo Yang's ward.
She dipped a cotton swab into the water and gently moistened his chapped lips. Her movements were gentle and meticulous.
Mo Yang wore a hospital gown, and he looked a little wobbly. One look and one could tell that he had lost a lot of weight.
His cheeks had also shrunk, and his eyes were dark green. He looked haggard and weak.
The wounds on Mo Yang's face had already been cleaned, but it was still a little shocking. Even Mo Chu did not dare to use too much strength...
Not long after, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the door. The door of the hospital bed was forcefully pushed open.
"How is Mo Yang?" At the door, Song Qingsong was no longer as calm and elegant as before. There was a hint of anxiety on his face and he was slightly panting. It seemed that he had rushed all the way here.
