In the sanatorium's ward building, nine-year-old Han Yi lay by the window, looking down.
——Downstairs, a young woman was scuffling with several medical staff. She was dressed fashionably, with good looks resembling a magazine cover model, making it hard to imagine someone like her being so fierce in a quarrel. She faced a dozen medical personnel without flinching, her curse words pouring out in heaps, leaving several young nurses in tears.
Han Yi turned his head towards the boy on the next bed in the room and said, "Xiao Jian, your mom's here again."
The boy opposite showed no reaction. As if he wasn't called Xiao Jian, or as if he couldn't hear at all.
Han Yi didn't mind and continued to watch the "battle" downstairs with dull interest.
He was very bored here.
The children here didn't like to talk, like the six-year-old boy in the bed next to him, who would just stare blankly all day, seemingly deaf to whatever was said to him.
