Fang Lixiang was pushed into the emergency room.
Xue Baoyi, like a wandering soul, followed the stretcher in, his eyes bloodshot, as if he was about to cry.
The nurse stopped him outside, "Family members, please wait out here."
He was dripping with sweat, his lips cracked from biting them, "Can't I go in? I'll just stand to the side."
The nurse, indifferent to what she had seen before, said, "You can't."
Bang!
The door to the emergency room was closed.
Xue Baoyi's legs gave out, he leaned against the wall to catch his breath for a moment, then called Jiang Zhi, "Brother Zhi, do me a favor."
Jiang Zhi, "Go ahead."
"Lixiang's been hospitalized. She's an artist, the news can't leak."
This hospital belonged to the Jiang Family.
"Why was she hospitalized?"
Xue Baoyi's hands were sweaty, even now, holding the phone, his hand was still trembling. He took a deep breath and said, "I pushed her."
He glanced at his hand, wishing to chop it off.
