Mrs. Rong Sr. was beside herself with worry, wringing her hands in despair. "What do we do now? I'm an old woman; I can't possibly be the one to donate blood to him!"
Suddenly, a thought struck her. She turned and grasped Rong Feiyu's hands tightly. "Feiyu, you're his daughter; your blood type must be a match. Could you give it a try? We have to save your father!"
Rong Feiyu's face visibly tensed, her lips stiffening into a fragile smile. "Grandma, I do have type A blood, but I've heard that close relatives should not donate blood to each other. It could lead to hemolytic disease. I want to save Dad as much as you do, but I'm helpless."
A wash of sorrow and self-blame painted Rong Feiyu's features.
Su Yifan, who had been quietly observing, comforted her. "It's alright, Feiyu. You shouldn't blame yourself. You've already done your best; your willingness alone is commendable."
