In this atmosphere of mutual suspicion and chilling cold, Zhao Xin finally got up slowly and looked toward Chen Xuejian, who was huddled in her blankets. With a trembling voice, she began, "That… Little Chen, of those five fellow patients from last week, one recovered, two went to the surgery room, but what about the other two?"
"I didn't see, but I heard," Chen Xuejian replied indifferently. "They were probably killed by the one who recovered."
With that, the temperature in the ward seemed to plunge even further.
It was definitely a competitive rule, and one of the most brutal at that.
After a long while, Zhao Xin steadied her breath and sat back on the bed, saying, "Let's take our medicine as per the doctor's orders for now, then we can discuss things bit by bit. We should try to unite and try to all recover."
No one responded, but they all tacitly picked up their own medicine boxes.
