The ICU ward on the top floor is the place where life and death are faced most directly.
Fu Shenzhi sat on a bench on the side with his head in his hands. His hair hung down, covering his expression. He had maintained this posture for a long time, so long that people suspected that he was a sculpture.
Xu Zisheng's lips moved as if he wanted to speak, but nothing came out.
The moonlight outside the glass window is deep. It is already late at night. The thick night is like a huge oppressive net, covering the world and everything in it.
There was a document floating alone at Fu Shenzhi's feet. It had already been signed and was a notice of critical illness.
The hall was dead silent. One could even faintly hear the roar of the large machines in the emergency room. The sound was so continuous that it made one's scalp tingle.
At this moment, time seemed to pass particularly slowly, and every minute and every second was extremely unbearable.
After an unknown amount of time, Xu Zisheng felt his eyes become a little sore. He blinked and looked down at his phone. It was already one in the morning.
Mu Chuan noticed Xu Zisheng's behavior and whispered, "Jie Ba, go and rest for a while. I'll stay with the master here."
Xu Zisheng shook his head, rubbed his swollen temples with his fingers, and tried to make himself more awake.
In the face of the chasm between life and death, individuals are truly insignificant. At this moment, everyone outside the emergency room can do nothing but pray in their hearts.
At this moment, the flickering lights in the ICU went out, and everyone present subconsciously held their breath.
The heavy iron door was pushed open with a creaky sound, and the doctors and nurses who came out all looked tired and serious. On the bed that was pushed out was a person lying with his eyes tightly closed, as if he was asleep.
Fu Shenzhi seemed to be awakened by the noise. He raised his head very slowly, his eyes were bloodshot and his face was as pale as paper.
Fu Shenzhi staggered to his feet and ran over here. He always paid great attention to his manners, but at this moment his steps were unsteady, as if he was drunk, and he almost tripped over his right foot and fell to the ground.
His movements were clumsy and funny, completely different from the dignified and self-possessed Mr. Fu in the past.
Fu Shenzhi ran to the bedside, took a look, and his face turned even paler. His body was shaking and it seemed that he would faint in the next second. Xu Zisheng and Mu Chuan hurriedly supported him on the left and right.
The man closed his eyes, as if he had used up all his strength, and said in a hoarse voice: "Doctor, how is she?"
The doctor sighed, "You've been given a critical illness notice. The girl's heart rate has been close to zero several times, and we were almost about to give up. However, she's still hanging on, refusing to die easily."
Fu Shenzhi's face was completely pale. Mu Chuan asked, "Excuse me, doctor, is she saved?"
The doctor shook his head and said, "It's not that bad. We saved him, but I'm afraid he'll just be a vegetable with no consciousness. Alas, we did our best."
"What are the chances of recovery?" Fu Shenzhi suddenly asked, his voice terribly hoarse.
The doctor looked at him sympathetically and chose his words carefully: "Well, sir, you know, with that kind of car rushing at that speed, it's a blessing from heaven that this young lady didn't die on the spot..."
Fu Shenzhi repeated: "Almost."
The doctor sighed, "Less than 10%. This has never happened in our hospital before."
There was an unprecedented despair in Fu Shenzhi's dark eyes. He seemed to want to continue speaking. He opened his mouth, bent over and coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Xu Zisheng was surprised and said, "Mr. Xianxian, you you you..."
Fu Shenzhi coughed up the blood and regained consciousness. Although his expression was still extremely ugly, at least his body was not as shaky as before. He reached out and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Even 10% is good, even 10% is good." The man murmured, as if he was talking to others, but also as if he was talking to himself: "Even 10% is good, even 10% is hope, even 10% is hope."
-
It was already midnight in Beijing, and the only pedestrians on the street were workers who had finished their night shift and were anxious to go home.
A Taoist priest who looked like a beggar squatted under a roadside lamp, looking up at the long night. There were only a few lonely stars in the inky sky.
It was already dark, but the beggar was wearing a white robe, which was extremely eye-catching in the darkness, like a fluttering white flag.
People passing by on the street felt that this person was a mentally ill person, and they were afraid that he would suddenly go crazy and stab someone with a knife, so they tried to avoid him as much as possible.
Master Bodhi looked up at the night sky alone for a while, then reached out from the sleeve of his white robe to take out a shriveled steamed bun and began to take small bites of it.
He bit his teeth and shook his head while muttering to himself, "Alas, I was right. It's just fate, it's just fate. It's pitiful, pitiful."
At this moment, someone threw a red bill beside him. Master Bodhi's eyes lit up, and he put the steamed bun in his mouth and grabbed the red bill.
She said skillfully, "Oh, thank you, thank you. Good deeds will be rewarded. This boss is so generous..."
The visitor sneered sarcastically, "Bodhi, you've become such a piece of shit, aren't you ashamed?"
Master Bodhi's expression froze for a moment, then quickly returned to normal. He carefully tucked the red bill and the half-eaten bun into his sleeve, making sure they were securely hidden. Then he looked up at the newcomer.
The man who came was a young man of about thirty, with thin eyebrows, a beautiful nose, and fine features. He could be said to be a very handsome man. Unfortunately, although this man's eyebrows and eyes were very beautiful, he was born with a mean and gloomy temperament, and it was obvious at first glance that he was not someone to be messed with.
The young man was wearing a black Taoist robe, which was different from Bodhi's crazy white robe. The young man's robe was smooth and exquisite, with intricate patterns, and it was obvious that it was of great value.
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