Song Anqi lay on the hospital bed, her face as pale as snow, her once charming and radiant features now looked like a withered flower, devoid of color.
She had been unconscious for an entire day and night.
Jiang Lan sat on a chair not far from her, crying as if the sky had darkened, and now she didn't even have the strength to cry.
She held Song Anqi in her hands, her face haggard, the image of the high and mighty noble lady she once portrayed completely vanished.
"Angie, my poor daughter, wake up soon, you must be strong and survive, don't ever give up, you still have me, and your father, we will protect you."
As Jiang Lan spoke, she couldn't help but sob again.
On the side, Song Huaizhong sat on the sofa, his face ashen, his expression weary as he looked at Song Anqi on the hospital bed, feeling both anger and distress.
How did things come to this point?
The phone in his pocket started ringing, and he quickly got up and went outside the hospital room.
