Yuan Lang pinched the note and walked out.
Wu Zhe and the doctor are so mature, it seems that they are undergoing long-term treatment. He thought again of the boy covering his mouth and nose under the pale lights of the supermarket, blood flowing out from between his fingers, red and scalding.
Unfolding the prescription in his hand, the bright cold light source in the corridor made the writing on it so bright that it became blurry.
Yuan Lang recognized a few words in the doctor's usual scrawled handwriting...