"Bei Jiang, can you forgive me?" Wei Qin asked weakly, his voice filled with expectation.
"I was never angry." Huo Beijiang's voice was hoarse, "How could I be mad at you! You know I never hold grudges, any anger I have is immediately released, any revenge is instantly exacted."
"Bei Jiang, thank you." Thank you, my childhood friend, my best buddy.
After finishing, Wei Qin gently hung up the phone, his body leaning against the soft sofa, his slender frame nearly swallowed whole by it. His exposed skin was frighteningly pale, but his eyes were unusually bright.
In just half a month, Wei Qin's vitality had rapidly faded away. Or rather, most of it had been drained since the last emergency surgery, and his continued survival was thanks to his stubborn will to live.
He had always been overextending his life, and now that he had found and reconciled with his younger brother, he was tired and could no longer hold on.
