Bai Jingye, dressed in sterile surgical attire, "Stop causing trouble."
"Someone." Leng Yichen called for sterile attire to follow him into the operating room.
Shu Qiqi had multiple fractures, abrasions on her hands and face, and her not-yet-healed lower leg was injured again.
Her chest had suffered a severe impact, and there was internal bleeding.
In short, her life was hanging by a thread.
Seeing Leng Yichen, Bai Jingye thought about freaking out, "What are you doing in here?"
"Saving her," Leng Yichen said quietly, his attitude almost pleading.
"I don't need you to tell me that; I'll do everything in my power." Bai Jingye was the best surgeon in City A; no one was better than him.
His hands were shaking.
Leng Yichen grabbed his hands, "I'll wipe your sweat; save her."
He took a towel from the nurse's hand.
Meeting Bai Jingye's gaze, his heart settled, and his hands steadied.
In this man's eyes, he saw the same care, the same pain and rage.