Yan Ye and Dr. Lu supported each other as they retraced their steps.
The two of them moved in stops and starts. As they got farther and farther away from the drug traffickers, they found a spot to tend to each other's wounds, preventing further blood loss during the trek.
Dr. Lu tore off a piece of his white coat, twisted it into a makeshift rope, and tied it tightly around Yan Ye's wrist. Upon seeing the embedded bullet in his hand, his heart filled with worry. "That's your right hand!"
"I know." Yan Ye, though inwardly regretful, remained resolute. "Compared to a life, a hand is nothing. Besides, there's still a chance it won't be permanently ruined."
"But it could greatly affect your career!" Dr. Lu said, his tone filled with guilt. "If you hadn't saved me, this wouldn't have happened."
"What nonsense are you spouting? Do you think I could just stand by and watch you die? What kind of person does that?" Yan Ye's expression darkened, clearly displeased with Dr. Lu's words.
