Lin Qiushu sat on the hallway bench, legs together, her hands tightly covering her face as tears continuously flowed through her fingers.
More than two hours had passed. How could this woman still have so many tears?
Yan Ye stepped forward, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and handed it to Lin Qiushu, "Stop crying, the patient was successfully resuscitated."
Hearing that icy voice again, Lin Qiushu suddenly looked up.
Her beautiful eyes, cried out like swollen walnuts, were red and puffy.
"What did you say?"
"Resuscitation was successful."
Lin Qiushu breathed a huge sigh of relief and cracked a smile uglier than crying, "That's great."
After speaking, she grabbed Yan Ye's handkerchief, vigorously wiped her tears, and tossed it back into his chest.
Then she hurried into the ward.
Yan Ye watched as his towel absorbed the tears and make-up, and couldn't help but shake his head.
Lin Qiushu leaned over the hospital bed, softly calling the elderly woman, "Grandma…"
