Chapter 258 Blood Transfusion
Dong Wenxuan frowned slightly, gently put down his cup, and squatted down. His warm but firm hand pressed on her shoulder, the pressure light yet carrying an undeniable reassurance: "Xiuye, don't overthink it. Weiwei is eating well and sleeping soundly at Grandma Wang's. She was even giggling yesterday. The most important thing for you now is to take good care of yourself. After you give birth, the three of us can be reunited. Lie down first, be good, I'll take you home in a little while, okay?"
Xiuye didn't lie down immediately, but quietly lowered her head and glanced at the watch on her wrist—the minute hand had quietly completed a full circle, and a whole hour had passed.
She knew in her heart that he was stalling and making excuses to stay, but he ultimately wanted to leave.
That vague unease crept in like vines, tightening its grip.
She bit her lip, finally raised her head, looked directly into his eyes, and whispered, "Bian Jiang, are you... scared? Afraid that once this child is born, your life will never be the same again?"
Dong Wenxuan did not answer immediately.
He lowered his head, slowly raised his hands, gently cupped her face with his warm palms, and lightly stroked her cheek with his thumbs.
Then, he slightly raised the corners of his mouth, revealing a very faint yet extremely gentle smile.
That smile was like the first rays of sunlight on a winter morning, shining into the room through the cracks in the old window and landing on the cold floor, warming your eyes and making your heart tremble, as if all the coldness had been melted away in an instant.
"Xiuye, listen to me, and get some rest."
His voice was deep and steady, like a breeze brushing past my ear, "I'm going out for a bit to take care of something, I'll be right back. Just wait for me here, don't go anywhere, okay?"
Xiao Shui had already faked a stomachache once before, but this time, lying in the hospital bed, she couldn't even keep up the act anymore.
She lay there weakly, her face pale, her breathing shallow, but her eyes remained fixed on Bian Jiang's figure.
She wanted to bring up Weiwei's matter, but as soon as she opened her mouth, Bian Jiang turned and left without even a reply.
The feeling of being ignored was like a needle pricking her heart, but she couldn't say anything.
She could only bite her lip and say softly, "Then go ahead, I'll wait for you."
Zhou Dajun knew she was throwing a tantrum and understood that she felt wronged.
But when I looked down at my watch, the hour hand was already pointing to 6:40, and there were less than 20 minutes left before the surgery started.
He could not delay any longer, nor dared to delay any longer.
He lowered his voice, coaxing me gently yet anxiously, "I'll be right back, really, not a minute longer. Don't wander off, just wait for me in the ward!"
After saying that, he grabbed the water glass from the bedside table and practically rushed out of the ward.
The corridor lights were a stark white, and footsteps echoed in the empty passageway.
He ran all the way to the operating room and saw Song Yu'an standing at the door, his hands clenched, sweat beading on his forehead, stamping his feet anxiously.
"The patient has lost too much blood! A blood transfusion is needed immediately!"
A nurse said nervously, "Our current stock of type A blood was just used up by the previous heart bypass surgery, and we have no backup blood supply!"
"Who has type A blood? Quickly find someone to donate!"
Another nurse, flipping through a notebook, shouted, "We've already contacted the blood bank and other hospitals, but it will take at least forty minutes to arrive. There's simply no time!"
Before she could finish speaking, an older head nurse rushed over. After hearing the situation, she frowned and said, "I'm also blood type A. I'll go to other departments to see if there are any suitable blood donors!"
After she finished speaking, she turned to leave, her steps steady and without hesitation.
Upon hearing this, Song Yu'an felt as if all his strength had been drained away, his knees buckled, and he almost knelt down on the spot.
Her eyes reddened, and her voice trembled: "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
The head nurse grabbed her arm, her voice firm: "Families need to get involved too! We can't do it alone; we can't afford to waste time!"
Song Yu'an was jolted awake and suddenly came to his senses.
But then, a chill ran up her spine from the soles of her feet—she had type AB blood and couldn't donate blood to Shen Cuifen at all.
Her mind raced: There must be someone in the Zhou family with type A blood, right?
Cousin?
aunt?
Even a distant relative would be helpful...
But going back to gather people now would take at least an hour round trip, and the surgery simply can't wait that long.
The next second, her heart clenched—would those people really be willing to donate blood for Shen Cuifen?
The woman they treated coldly and regarded as a burden?
No, it won't.
Not a single one.
Then spend the money!
She gritted her teeth, her eyes hardening.
She has plenty of money; she'll spend it all to buy blood!
Price is no object as long as it can save lives!
She turned to run towards the stairwell, but just as her fingers touched the doorknob, her wrist was firmly gripped by a warm hand.
"I also have type A blood."
Zhou Dajun's voice was calm and steady, "I'll do it."
Before the nurse could react, he had already rolled up his sleeves and sat down on the blood collection chair.
The nurse quickly checked his blood pressure and hemoglobin levels, and after confirming that he was eligible to donate blood, she immediately began the procedure.
He had two full bags of blood drawn, 300 milliliters each, for a total of 600 milliliters, which is almost the safe limit.
As soon as the needle was pulled out, his legs gave way uncontrollably, and he fell backward, his face as pale as paper.
The nurse was startled and quickly supported him, hurriedly giving him a whole bottle of oral glucose solution: "You didn't eat dinner, did you? You should have said so earlier! How could we have drawn so much? How can your body take it!"
She complained as she checked his pupils and pulse, fearing something might have happened to him.
Zhou Dajun gritted his teeth, his lips barely moved, and he didn't say a word.
But he raised his hand, pointed to the blood bag next to him, and urged with a determined look in his eyes: "Send it in... quickly."
The blood bag was quickly handed over and rushed into the operating room by a nurse.
Zhou Dajun leaned against the wall, one hand covering his head, his vision blurring and his temples throbbing.
In a hazy state of consciousness, a female voice suddenly rang in my mind—light and airy, with a hint of laughter, like a fragment retrieved from the depths of my memory.
"Oh, what a coincidence! I'm also type A! If you ever get injured, I can help you right away, no worries at all!"
The voice was clear and familiar, carrying the innocence and gentleness unique to young people.
She said it when he was fifteen years old, in the school clinic, as she tiptoed to hand him a bottle of water.
Song Yu'an stayed beside him, squatted down and gently patted his face: "Dajun? Dajun! How are you?"
Her heart remained suspended in the operating room, the constant ticking of the instruments in her ears feeling like each second was pounding on her nerves.
Zhou Dajun suddenly opened his eyes, the bright incandescent light overhead making him instinctively squint.
As my gaze gradually focused, the surrounding light and shadow slowly became clear.
That sound...
Is it really Shen Cuifen?
Only she had ever said those words to him with a smile back then.
Only she, like him, has type A blood.
"Dajun, are you alright?"
Song Yu'an asked again, his voice very low.
He nodded slowly, reached out and supported himself on the armrest of the chair, and stood up little by little.
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