Ran Zhihan didn't seem to understand why I acted as if I were triggered inside the hospital. He smashed a glass and used a shard to cut his own wrist. Blood poured out of him, flowing down his arm like an unstoppable spring.
Zhang Yichen was outside discussing his wife's condition with the doctors, without bothering to check on her inside the hospital room. He was already convinced that his wife's situation had reached an irreparable point.
He wasn't worried about anything else now, only fearing that his wife might meet with danger at any given moment. After all these years of struggles together, getting to this point was no small feat. He had never felt such tension before. He had always believed he could live a happy life, but now, with his parents finally returning—the fulfillment of a long-cherished wish—the unexpected crisis with his wife cast a long shadow. If this continued, how was he supposed to shoulder all this pain?
