Si Yang stood quietly on the side, watching his composed demeanor. Ever since Mo Sichen resigned, he had come here. This place was peaceful, free from outside disturbances, where he could quietly wait—for the day his life would come to an end.
Si Yang looked at Mo Sichen. "Sir…"
Mo Sichen made a phone call to Xia Yunsheng but didn't even have the courage to speak to her.
It made Si Yang feel a pang of sadness.
Because of him, Xia Yunsheng was doing well now. Yet he, on the other hand, could only stay here, silently waiting for death.
This world was far too unfair to him.
Si Yang said, "Doctor Vick is here."
Mo Sichen replied, "Let him leave."
Anyway, no matter how much they looked, it was meaningless. He had already given up all hope for his life.
Si Yang looked at him. "But…"
"What I needed to do is done."
He stood by the window, picked up his paintbrush, and continued to depict the scenery outside.
