The night is as thick as ink that cannot be melted.
On the outskirts of Jiangcheng City, a sanatorium that had been abandoned for decades was like a giant beast dormant in the darkness, lying silently among the grassy mountains. On the rusty iron door, the five characters "Scarlet Sanatorium" exuded an indescribable strangeness under the pale moonlight.
Lin Ye stood in front of the iron gate and tightened the old coat that had turned white from washing.
In the early autumn night in Jiangcheng, the chill was already severe, but it was not as cold as the bone-deep cold in his heart.
On the screen of the mobile phone, there was still a message from the doctor in the afternoon: [Mr. Lin Ye, your mother's condition has worsened again. Heart stent surgery must be arranged as soon as possible. The cost is about 500,000. Please prepare as soon as possible, we can't wait.
Half a million.
