From what Zhao Yiming had gathered from the tenants in the shopping district, Madam He was still in the ER. Without wasting a second, the three of them rushed to the hospital.
As expected, the hospital was crowded—people came and went in waves, some crying, others praying.
The ER was a chaotic blend of urgency and sorrow, filled with the sounds of pain, machines beeping, and doctors shouting orders.
In the corner of the waiting room, Zhao Yiming spotted the frail figure of Mr. Wu. He sat hunched over, his back bent like a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes were empty. Hollow. As if the life had been drained out of him.
"Mr. Wu… is your wife alright?" Luo Yanyu was the first to approach, kneeling beside him gently.
He didn't respond. For a moment, there was only silence—thick and suffocating.
"She… she's in the ICU now. I can't see her," he finally murmured, voice hoarse and trembling. "The doctor said I can't see her…"
