The discharge papers were signed before noon.
Ying Rui had made the decision quietly, without consulting anyone. The doctor had been hesitant at first—Ying Mao's condition had stabilized, but he still needed rest and monitoring. In the end, Ying Rui simply said he would hire a private physician to check on the boy daily.
That settled it.
Jua Gu stood beside the hospital bed, helping Ying Mao into a soft jacket. The boy's movements were slow, his small body still weak, but his eyes were brighter than they had been in days. He was only ten, thin and small for his age, and the hospital gown hung off his shoulders like a borrowed costume.
"Are we going home?" Mao Mao asked.
"Yes," Jua said, zipping the jacket carefully. "But you have to promise to rest."
Mao Mao nodded seriously.
"I promise."
Ying Rui watched from the doorway.
The boy hadn't looked at him once since waking up.
