Suning Hospital.
Song Ling rushed to the hospital and walked to the door of Yatong's ward.
From a distance, the nurse who had called her earlier met her.
Both of them worked in the same hospital. In addition, Dr. Song was now a celebrity in Sucheng, so naturally they knew each other.
The nurse said anxiously,
“Doctor Song, you are finally here. The female patient you sent last night is getting weaker and weaker. Her physical condition is very poor and her immunity is very low.
In this way, if I don’t take injections, don’t have IV drips, and don’t eat, my body really won’t be able to endure it…”
Song Ling frowned and glanced at her.
Amidst the fierce aura surrounding him, the surprised female nurse opened her mouth and didn't know what to say next.
Song Ling strode into the ward, which was shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere.
There were two female nurses on duty talking to Yatong.
Try to comfort her and calm her down.
Unfortunately, Yatong is like a lifeless doll.
Sitting quietly at the table in front of the window, his clear eyes were empty and pale.
Two spindly arms, knees hunched in a protective posture.
She was very thin, so thin that it was unbearable to look at.
She sat in such an unsafe position, motionless.
Even the pale face seemed to blend into the white, cold wall, and the fingers were pale too.
The first impression of the person is fragility and helplessness, followed by severe malnutrition.
Yatong is only immersed in her own world.
No matter what the nurse said to her or how she persuaded her, there was no fluctuation in her cold eyes.
She doesn't move or speak, and she doesn't show any emotions, but that's why she's even more terrifying.
Song Ling glanced coldly at the female nurses standing beside him and motioned them to leave.
The female nurse had already left, and Song Ling walked over and closed the door of the ward.
Standing in front of Yatong and looking into her eyes, there was a hint of emotion in the light.
He had watched Yatong grow up. She was as quiet as the wind and as gentle as a flower.
Seeing her lifeless appearance, he felt uncomfortable.
"Why don't you eat? Why don't you cooperate with the treatment?"
Yatong was still unresponsive or immersed in her own emotions, as if Song Ling didn't exist.
Song Ling looked at her, at her thin shoulders and deep eyes.
The window was open and a breeze blew in from outside.
Yatong's shoulders were shaking, she was getting thinner and thinner, and she looked very sad.
This scene reminded Song Ling of a long time ago.
When he was about ten years old, his father married Liu Su.
Liu Su didn't dare to abuse him when his father was at home, but when his father was not at home, Liu Su would abuse him unscrupulously.
He was only ten years old at that time, and kneeling on a snowy winter night was the most normal thing to do.
I remember that on a snowy winter night, he was once again punished by Liu Su to kneel in the snow.
He just knelt there, motionless.
The snow continued to fall.
His head and shoulders were covered with snow and his body seemed frozen.
It was Yatong who came over, covered his little face with her warm little hands, and warmed him with her own body temperature.
Innocent as she was, she said sweetly, "I'll help you warm up..."
On that snowy night, he didn't want to talk to her at all.
He was too aloof at that time and didn't want to talk to anyone.
But Yatong was so stubborn in staying with him that she even struggled to wrap her pink scarf around his neck.
At the time, he was disgusted and threw the pink scarf aside.
Yatong was not angry. She picked it up and helped him to surround it.
She also said childishly: "Brother Ling, you can't be willful. Mom said you have to wear a scarf when it snows, otherwise you will catch a cold..."
He wanted to throw it away, but Yatong stubbornly pulled the scarf to stop him.
He had to wear her pink scarf and let her stay with him all night.
She was a quiet, intelligent little girl who barely spoke to him.
He just kept rubbing his hands to warm his cheeks and hands.
When his hand was as cold as ice, she innocently took his hand, put it in the pocket of her down jacket, and covered him.
Of course he refused, but the little girl was like a piece of candy.
He couldn't refuse anything.
But he always remembers the warmth on his cheek in the wind and snow.
He still remembered the little girl who shivered with red cheeks in order to warm him and keep him company.
Her eyes are so pure and warm.
Since then, the little girl has given him a lot of warmth.
But now the little girl has grown up and her frail body needs warmth.
He turned and picked up the wide coat from her shoulders.
Yatong's eyes trembled slightly, and then there was a desolate look at the bottom of her eyes.
Song Ling stood in front of her for a long time.
He didn't speak, and she was speechless too.
There was silence in the air.
After a long time, Song Ling stretched out his palm and warmed her cheek like a child.
Yatong finally responded, her eyelashes trembling slightly.
Song Ling said hoarsely, "I'll help you warm up..."
Yatong's memory was instantly pulled back to her childhood, and her heartstrings were touched.
She turned her gaze to Song Ling, held his big hand with her small hand, and burst into tears.
The clear eyes were filled with crystal tears, which kept flowing out.
She burst into tears.
She grabbed Song Ling's hand and cried softly.
"Brother Ling, my mother is gone. I don't have a mother anymore. I saw the news this morning that my mother committed suicide. She couldn't stand my father's torture.
She committed suicide. I knew I had hurt her, and she had helped me escape from home. This would have surely angered Dad, so he would have tortured her even more..."
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