However, Zhao Tiezhu did not answer Xiaoting, but meticulously took the old man's pulse.
Seeing this, Xiaoting had wanted to say something but, after a careful thought, she closed her mouth and did not speak, instead quietly watching Zhao Tiezhu take the old man's pulse.
Outside the ward, on a chair, the old man's son sat there, dazed. His head had been bowing for so long that his brain felt dizzy to the point of sickness.
At that moment, he wished he could just lie down on the ground, disregarding everything and pass out.
But he could not do so, for as the host in the ward, where the so-called doctor was seeing his father, he needed to hear about his father's condition firsthand.
Therefore, he tried his best to stay awake, pricking up his ears to listen intently to any sound from within the ward.
At this moment, the red digital display in the hospital corridor was ticking away time.
As the numbers kept changing, the old man's son's heart rose to his throat.