A few men outside the emergency room suddenly turned pale.
Xu Xiangyang didn't say a word, he took off his coat and followed Nie Heng into the emergency room with swift steps.
The doors to the emergency room closed once again.
The atmosphere in the hallway was so somber it was suffocating.
Xi Jiu leaned against the wall motionless, like a statue made of ice. If one looked closely, they would notice his hands trembling at his sides.
Ruan Munan collapsed into a chair, his warm and moist black eyes full of bloodshot veins.
Gu Feiyang slowly closed his eyes, his fists turned white from gripping too hard.
Time was like a blunt knife scraping against the skin, cutting painfully into the heart with each passing moment.
Doctors and nurses were rushing in and out, and their response each time was "we're still performing emergency treatment."
After an indeterminate amount of time, the doors to the emergency room suddenly swung open.