By the time they emerged, the door to the hospital room was gently closed, and the curtain outside rustled slightly in the breeze, carrying the scent of the hospital. For Tang Yuxin, this atmosphere still carried a considerable sense of reassurance.
She truly fell asleep, just as Gu Ning had said.
When you're asleep, it doesn't hurt.
Tang Zhinian and Tang Zhijun, the two brothers, left the hospital with faces as dark as ink and expressions so grim they made them unapproachable.
"Brother, we can't just let this go."
Biting his teeth, Tang Zhijun said that they absolutely couldn't let this slide. They couldn't suffer such a loss, especially one so great that it almost cost lives.
Looking at the two children in the incubator, small like kittens, with even their cries so faint, they were heartbreaking. Gu Ning's mother was so worried she was still in hospital till now. This wasn't about one life; it was about three lives.