The Central Military Hospital was brighter at three in the morning than most people were at noon.
Guiying stepped out of the car with Liuxian's coat over his shoulders and a very bad mood. He had been dragged out of the first good sleep he'd had in days, the smell of disinfectant was already tickling the back of his throat.
"If I throw up on someone tonight…" he said, "it's their own fault."
Liuxian held his elbow. "Anyone in particular?"
"My uncle."
"Then I'll make sure he stands close."
Behind them, Haiyan coughed into his fist to hide a laugh.
Fu Pei was waiting at the entrance of the critical care wing with a tablet in one hand and the face of a man who had not slept and was holding the entire world responsible. He fell into step beside them without bothering with a greeting.
"Fourth floor. Six men at the doors, all in black, no hospital badges. They're calling it a private family matter."
"Whose family?" Guiying asked.
"Yours, apparently."
"Funny. Nobody asked me."
