Before long, Zhao Heng, accompanied by Ruan Liuzheng, followed Liu Ziang to a neurosurgery ward.
Upon entering the ward, Zhao Heng immediately saw a middle-aged man in a yellow delivery vest, lying on the hospital bed, his head wrapped in blood-soaked bandages, face pale, eyes closed. Next to him sat his wife, a woman in her late twenties, looking extremely distressed, with a dazed expression, accompanied by their two children, a boy and a girl.
Zhao Heng glanced at them, noticing the older boy was about seven or eight, while the younger girl was not yet three years old, her face round and adorably cute.
The two children looked at their father, lying motionless on the bed. The older boy, slightly more understanding of the situation, sat frozen, while the two-year-old girl, still too young to comprehend, kept asking her brother.
"Brother, why is dad sleeping and not getting up to play?"
The innocent voice of the child echoed within the ward.
