Around noon on Wednesday, Yan Feifan finished two intraspinal tumor puncture procedures and headed to the Plastic Surgery Center.
When he arrived at the director's office, he saw that Wang Chuan had already laid out a meal on the coffee table in the guest area, enough for two or three people.
The dishes were exquisite; you could tell at a glance they had been personally prepared by a master chef from a famous restaurant.
Yan Feifan didn't wait to be invited. He poured himself a glass of water and sat down across from Wang Chuan.
"Director, you always order such lavish and exquisite takeout."
Wang Chuan tossed a spare set of utensils—an extra sent by the restaurant—to Yan Feifan and joked, "No matter how much I order, there are always people who smell the food and come over for a free meal, so not a single bite goes to waste."
After a two-second pause, he sighed softly. "With good food to keep me company, life doesn't feel so hard."
"Fortunately, the dawn is near!"
