Beijing.
Vehicles follow the flow of traffic.
The streets are bustling with endless traffic and bustling crowds; it's incredibly prosperous.
The sky has already darkened.
The trip from the airport to the treatment center took nearly two hours. When they arrived, it was already 7:40 in the evening.
A black car is parked at the front door.
Fu Chi quickly got out of the car.
Bo Wen had already been waiting at the door. Seeing Fu Chi, he immediately greeted him. His tone was unusually serious, lacking his usual nonchalance: "He's on the third floor, hanging on by a thread, waiting for you."
There was a sense of complexity in his heart as he spoke.
Witnessing Yi Yang's suffering, to be honest, left a sour taste in his heart, especially if it related to past events. This made it even more complex. Yi Yang's life was probably just one big tragedy.
"How did he get hurt?"
