COLD RAIN

CHAPTER 56

A gust of early winter wind bent the branches and made the leaves rustle.

At the end of the hospital corridor, Pon leaned against the window, looking at the bright red words “in operation”.

He was wearing a cotton-padded coat and holding a bottle of hot water but his heart seemed to be still in the cold trunk, his heartbeat silent.

The scene that constantly replayed in front of was the one when the refrigerator truck braked sharply, the cargo trunk door was pried open, and light shone in .

Sailub covered in blood, motionless, his eyebrows and eyelashes laced with frost. He still was holding him. The police and doctor worked together for a long time before separating them.

In the ambulance, he held Sailub’s hand that was still clenched in a fist, bringing it to his mouth to breathe on it. He soaked it with hot water, but Sailub didn’t respond.

He panicked and wanted to cry again. The cold, stiff bluish fingers suddenly stretched out and the eyelashes trembled.

Then his eyes opened into two slits. Lying on the cart, Sailub struggled several times and couldn’t manage a smile.

Through the oxygen mask, he said two words just moving his lips — don’t cry.

Pon held back his tears.

He didn’t cry when Sailub was sent into the operating room.

He didn’t cry when he raised his hand and saw the blood melting in his palm.

He didn’t cry when the doctor came out and issued a medical emergency notice.

“The knife is very long. It went from the back through the ribcage and straight into the chest cavity, only two centimetres short of the heart. Although there was no secondary injury and the coagulation was accelerated because of the low temperature, the patient has a deep wound, large trauma, and a large amount of blood in the chest cavity, and is still being resuscitated, so please, the family needs to be prepared.”

After listening to this relatively easy-to-understand description, Pon nodded in a daze and suddenly grabbed the doctor’s arm when he turned around and was about to go in again, “Please save him.”

He was only 23 years old. He just got the best actor award last year.

Many, many people like him. He should be greeted by a bright future full of flowers, not a cold operating table.

These things Pon did not say, who among those here did not want to live, and crying would not bring more vitality for the man in the operating room.

But just thinking like this got him so sad that he could not breathe.

Besides, apart from these things, the more important point was that he didn’t want him to die, he wanted him to live well.

He even began to regret not agreeing earlier, preferring to procrastinate until the moment before Sailub closed his eyes.

Even if this disaster might really be the fate of him and Sailub, at least there would be no regrets.

What’s more, he had always loved him, from beginning to end, and never stopped.

This powerless resistance, lingering hesitation, vague pain in the dead of night, all these stirring emotions were because he still loved him.

Pon also had injuries on his body. In addition to the abrasions left by the rope on his wrists, he was also hit on the head by a blunt object.

The doctor recommended that he stayed in the hospital for a few days for observation.

He couldn’t stay in the ward and ran to the door of the operating room to guard.