In the hospital, outside the operating room.
Xia Yehua had a deep frown as she paced up and down the corridor frantically.
Qiao Lian sat on a bench with her head hung. Her gaze was fixed, staring blankly at the thin air in front of her.
Very soon, the doctor came out.
As though she had suddenly found her purpose, she sprang up and ran up to him.
The doctor informed them, "It's nothing serious, it's just that he lost some blood. He'll be fine with some rest. We've dressed the wound on his head."
Hearing that it wasn't anything too serious and that it was just a superficial injury, Qiao Lian could finally exhale.
Yet he was still unconscious, so they moved him to the VIP ward.
Lying on the bed with his eyes shut, color had drained from his face.
Xia Yehua sat on the sofa on the side and was patting her chest, obviously feeling unwell.
Qiao Lian hurried over to her side and held her, asking, "Mum, are you okay?"