Carriage No. 16 still doesn't have a single camera; the sickbed by the window's edge has almost become He Jie's special spot, where he spends more time lying down each month than he does at home.
Wrapped like a mummy, He Jie lies on the bed, casting a sideways glance at the two young people sitting nearby.
Qu Hang peeled a black-skinned fruit, quickly revealing its pale yellow flesh, then he sliced it with a small knife and speared a piece to offer to He Jie.
Damn, the tables have turned.
He Zhenzhen chirped from the side, "Dad, this is called a black apple. It tastes like mashed potatoes with butter, melts in the mouth, and helps promote bone growth. Director Xu said it's best for patients like you with comminuted fractures."
Han Qin chimed in, "Yeah, Xiaohang is feeding you, why aren't you eating?"
