"Impossible, weren't you the one by her side back then?"
Doctor Hua sneered, "Qiao Bowen, you really are getting senile. Even if I knew where her grave is, why should I tell you? You old bastard, if it weren't for you, would she have died?"
The light in the old man's eyes gradually dimmed, turning into a pool of stagnant water, unable to stir any ripples.
"It's all my fault...."
He sank into deep remorse and self-blame, holding his head and sobbing bitterly.
"Alright, alright, how many years has it been? A grown man crying like that, isn't it shameful?"
The old man suddenly clutched his neck, gasping violently, his face turning crimson red. Doctor Hua realized something was wrong and shouted outside, "Yun Ya."
Yun Ya rushed in with a medical kit.
Qiao Yi followed behind.
"Number two silver needle." Doctor Hua instructed Yun Ya, while he helped the old man regulate his breathing.
