The night was heavy.
Jiang Qingli pressed the answer key, and the call timer started on the screen.
The background noise on the other end was chaotic. Jin Li's voice was hoarse and broken as he began, awkwardly, "Jiang... Jiang Qingli, I..."
He struggled with that "I" for a long time, as if he wanted to say something but was being choked, leaving only the sound of his ragged, heavy breathing.
"If there's nothing, I'm hanging up."
Jiang Qingli's voice wasn't the incessant pestering or impatience Jin Li remembered. Instead, it was so calm it was devoid of emotion, as if she were speaking to a stranger.
A wave of panic enveloped Jin Li. The image of Fang Chi's severely injured, mangled face flashed through his mind, along with the blood-red light of the operating room. He roared, almost losing control, "I'm begging you!"
