Zhao Mengmeng, upon hearing this, looked outside through the glass in the door.
The hallway was empty.
At the very least, within her field of vision, she didn't see anyone.
She chuckled, "You can tell him whatever you want, but if you touch my son, next year's today will be your death anniversary, I always keep my word."
Her chilling words terrified everyone, quivering as they saw Zhao Mengmeng's knife draw closer to the doctor's neck, and they hastily nodded in agreement.
"Remember what you've promised, and if later on outside, you leak even a little something, you'll meet the same fate."
"Yes, yes, yes."
Zhao Mengmeng glared at the doctor, who was already sweating profusely before surgery had even started, clearly scared out of her wits.
Having received a definite confirmation from the doctor, Zhao Mengmeng's surgical knife "clattered" to the floor, emitting a sharp sound.
After making the boldest move of her life, she surprisingly didn't fall into a panic.
