Hemophilia

Late at night, outside a ward on the sixth floor of An Family Private Hospital.

Yimo looked through the glass window at Tong Muxue, lying quietly in the room, still unconscious and receiving a blood transfusion. He pressed his lips together and clenched his fists.

From the first day he met Tong Muxue, he had already sensed that something about her was off.

Her body temperature was noticeably higher than his.

He had asked her if she was sick and offered to take her to the hospital to get checked out.

But Tong Muxue had deftly avoided the question every time.

In fact, his pressing her about it had even caused her affection level to drop.

Then, with one thing after another happening, Yimo had completely pushed the matter to the back of his mind.

Who could have known that, at a time like this, it would suddenly explode like a time bomb?

If it were something else, he could have found a way to deal with it.

But when it came to a health problem, what could Yimo do, even if he had three heads and six arms?

Besides, he was just an ordinary person.

Yimo had already been standing outside An Bingyan's ward for two hours.

An Bingyan had been on the phone the whole time, and the doctors wouldn't tell him anything when he asked about Tong Muxue's condition.

Now that An Bingyan had finally come over carrying a stack of documents, he hurried to her and asked, "An Bingyan, what exactly is wrong with Tong Muxue...?"

"Is her life in danger? Is there any chance she can be cured?"

An Bingyan didn't look well either. Seeing how agitated Yimo was, she frowned and said, "Come on. Let's find somewhere else to talk."

An Bingyan led Yimo