Ye Fanshuang slowly opened his heavy eyelids amid the pungent smell of disinfectant.
The smell was strong and cold, with a forced clean and aggressive feeling that went straight into the nostrils.
Above her head was the hospital's blindingly pale ceiling. The monotonous hum of the fluorescent tubes intertwined with the regular yet cold beeping of the electrocardiogram monitor beside her ear, forming a suffocating background sound.
Her consciousness seemed to be sinking to the bottom of murky deep water, struggling to float up.
The chaos lasted only a few seconds before fragments of memory pierced into his mind with a burning pain—a deafening roar, flames shooting up into the sky, the luxury cruise ship groaning in pain in the explosion, twisted steel, thick and choking black smoke... and Ye Qingliu!
He collapsed there, covered in blood, his chest pinned down by a heavy steel beam, his always calm eyes tightly closed, lifeless...
"Qingliu!" She suddenly propped herself up from the bed, her throat feeling as if it was being torn apart by pain.
A sharp, piercing pain suddenly came from my left leg, as if countless steel needles were stirring in the bone joints.
She looked down and saw that her left leg was tightly wrapped in thick white plaster, extending from the middle of the thigh to the ankle. It was like a clumsy and heavy stone pillar, nailing her firmly to the bed, making her unable to move.
Every time she tried to move, it pulled on the broken nerves, causing her vision to go black due to the pain.
"Miss Ye, are you awake?"
The door was gently pushed open, and a young nurse in a light pink nurse's uniform walked in quickly. Seeing her struggling to get up, an anxious look immediately appeared on her face, and she hurried forward to hold her thin shoulders.
"You can't move yet! Your leg is a comminuted fracture with nails inserted. You must rest absolutely!"
Ye Fanshuang simply refused to listen to any advice.
She was like a wounded lioness, her pupils dilated with extreme anxiety. She grasped the nurse's wrist tightly, her nails almost digging into her flesh.
Her voice was as hoarse as sandpaper: "Where's Ye Qingliu? Where is he?!"
The nurse gasped when she grabbed her, leaving several red marks on her wrists. Frowning and enduring the pain, she said, "Young Master Ye... He's in the ICU. The doctor said he's out of danger for now, but..."
"Is he seriously injured?!" Ye Fanshuang's fingers tightened again unconsciously, and his knuckles turned bluish-white due to the force, as if he wanted to crush the nurse's bones.
"The sternum... multiple fractures, severe lung contusion, internal bleeding... and excessive blood loss..."
The nurse was frightened by the terrifying hostility in her eyes, and her voice trembled slightly. She hesitated for a moment before adding.
"But please rest assured, the Ye family has mobilized the best medical team in the world, equipped with the most advanced equipment. He...he will be fine."
"Out of danger for now...too much blood loss..." Ye Fanshuang seemed to have been drained of all his strength. He suddenly let go of his hand and fell heavily back onto the cold hospital bed.
My chest was heaving violently, and every breath brought with it severe pain in my legs and a feeling of suffocation in my heart.
She closed her eyes, her thick eyelashes casting a fragile shadow on her pale cheeks.
The scene of the explosion flashed wildly in my mind, like the most brutal movie scene: flames licked the cabin, the gorgeous decorations were twisted and deformed in the high temperature; the screams of terror were drowned out by the sound of the explosion.
She dragged her bloody, pain-numbed leg, crawling and shouting desperately in the thick black smoke and choking dust... Finally, she reached the edge of the broken deck.
She saw him—Ye Qingliu. He was lying in a pool of blood like a broken jade statue. The heavy and twisted steel beam was like a devil's giant claw, pressing hideously on his once solid and warm chest... The scarlet blood, the glaring red, spread endlessly before her eyes.
Ye Qingliu almost died.
And she couldn't even protect him at all.
A cold, rusty despair and anger grew wildly from the bottom of her heart like poison ivy, entwining her heart and tightening more and more.
"Where's Su Xinghui?" she suddenly spoke, her voice as cold as the wind blowing across the Siberian tundra, with a creepy calmness.
The nurse was taken aback by her sudden change of subject and the chill in her voice. "Ms. Su... Miss Su? She... she only had some minor scrapes and was frightened. She was observed for a day and was discharged home yesterday."
Ye Fanshuang's pupils suddenly shrank to the size of a needle tip!
Minor scrapes?!
On the entire "Poseidon" cruise ship, Ye Qingliu was struggling on the line between life and death, Chao Youye had a broken rib, and Mu Xinrong suffered a concussion and fell into a coma.
Her own left leg was shattered, not to mention the twelve souls who had turned to charcoal or sunk to the icy seabed...and Su Xinghui, her inseparable best friend since childhood, had only minor scratches?!
This coincidence is like the most clumsy and vicious script carefully arranged by fate!
What a coincidence... It was as if she knew the script in advance and accurately avoided all fatal injuries!
Ye Fanshuang's fingers suddenly clenched the snow-white bed sheet beneath her, and her knuckles made a slight "creaking" sound due to excessive force. The thin cloth wrinkled and deformed in her palms, as if it was about to be torn apart by her.
A cold, bloody murderous intent silently spread from her body.
"Ms. Ye, you just woke up, so don't get too excited. You really need to have a good rest..." The nurse was forced to take a step back by the invisible pressure emanating from her, and her voice was filled with cautious comfort.
"Get out." Ye Fanshuang did not open his eyes. His voice was as low as the echo from the abyss, and every word was filled with unquestionable brutality.
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