"Mmm… mmm… mmm…"
Ji Chuyang scrunched his face in frustration, struggling relentlessly.
Zimei raised her foot and directly kicked over the chair he was sitting on.
Ji Chuyang's head slammed heavily against the chair's backrest, and the pain almost caused him to lose consciousness.
He looked up at Zimei's face, seductive yet laced with anger, and dared not move a muscle.
When Zimei stepped out of the cubicle, she saw the doctor and nurse had already emerged from the room.
"The bullet is out, but the patient has lost too much blood and needs a transfusion. We didn't bring any blood bags in our rush. Does anyone know the patient's blood type?" the doctor asked in Japanese.
After the subordinate translated the doctor's words, Ye Cheng, who had been silent all this time, finally moved his eyelids slightly. "He's B blood type."
Ji Wei responded to this news with a flicker of life on her despondent face. She raised her hand and said, "Use my blood. I'm B type too."
