"As long as I don't speak, I'll be fine."
The woman said, placing a finger to her lips, "Shh, don't talk, there are people everywhere outside, you should sleep!"
The man coughed a few times, and then silently closed his eyes.
In the darkness, tears fell from the woman's eyes. In front of Lu Lingche, she didn't even dare to cry, fearing he would detect something amiss.
She struggled to hold back, quickly wiping away any accidental tears. Crying non-stop would be too strange, Lu Lingche would definitely be suspicious; he was too clever.
Only when she got home did she dare to cry.
But she couldn't cry for too long. Thirty years ago, she had learned a truth—tears are the most worthless thing in this world; no one will pity you for crying, nor will they let you off.
Lu Lingche's people were everywhere outside; she still had to find a way to escape.
As for what would become of the man on the hospital bed, she couldn't worry about that anymore.
