There was a water stain on the ceiling of the hospital bed, shaped like a human face with a crooked smile. Fu Xiaoyong stared at it for three days, but he couldn't figure out what this thing was laughing at.
The stitches on the stab wound on my left shoulder had just been removed, and after the anesthesia wore off, it felt like someone was stabbing it back and forth with a saw blade. He turned to look at the painkillers on the bedside table, but didn't move. If you eat too much of that stuff, your brain will become confused. In their line of work, being unclear is a fatal task.
When the ward door was pushed open, he didn't even raise his eyelids.
"Xiaoyong, there is something..."
