The answer to him was the sound of a door being slammed shut.
Fuck!
Yaen Chi simply gave up. No one was paying him any mind, and even if he screamed himself hoarse, no one would come to help him. He quietly lowered the chair, not daring to lie flat, curling up on his side like a quail.
These past two days, all he did was eat and sleep. In any case, not one person was there to change his bandages. Every time Li Jian brought food, he used only one hand as if the other was paralyzed, plopping the tray onto the small table in front of Yaen Chi.
The posture was no different from feeding a dog.
Yaen Chi got so angry that he passed out from the pain. When he woke up again, he was already in the hospital, with a nurse asking about his injuries. He felt like he was seeing an angel.
After the doctor left, he turned over, reached for his phone on the bed, and called the old man to complain.
