Chen An had already told him for the fifth time yesterday that Tong Ran could no longer be put on a drip, as her veins were too fragile; continuing like this could lead to an incident.
The primary condition for not having a drip was that she could no longer keep sleeping uncontrollably.
So, either she had to want to wake up on her own, or they had to carry out compulsory psychological counseling and awakening.
If they chose the latter, even Chen An couldn't predict the consequences.
After all, it was a matter of the psyche; even a slight mishap could leave lifelong issues.
Mo Nanjue sat by the bedside, his slender hands clenched into fists, clenching and unclenching, repeatedly, not knowing how many times until his hands were nearly numb, before the man finally stopped moving.
He wanted her to wake up.
He wanted her to be alive and before him.
He wanted a normal Tong Ran, not an empty shell lying here.
