"Qing Yi."
Seeing who it was, Bai Yi exclaimed with joy.
Qing Yi was drenched in sweat, his face pale and breathless. As soon as he entered, his anxious gaze locked onto the comatose drunk on the hospital bed.
"What's... what's wrong with him?"
Gasping for breath, Qing Yi asked as he quickly walked over to the bed.
"His body is fine, he just won't wake up," Bai Yi replied.
"Won't wake up?"
Due to extreme tension and emotional agitation, Qing Yi's thoughts were somewhat chaotic and disjointed.
He squatted by the bedside, holding the drunk's hand with one hand while the other caressed his gaunt face.
"...Xiaohan?" The panic and tension in his voice were unmistakable.
"Xiaohan?"
He reached out and shook the drunk's shoulder.
"Xiaohan?"
However, the drunk was like the dead, showing no reaction.
"What's exactly wrong with him?" Qing Yi asked the doctor.
"We've checked everything, there's nothing wrong with his body."
