Immortal Technique

December 12th, Friday, 7:00 a.m.

Third People's Hospital, Yuzhou, private ward.

The door suddenly swung open, and Lin Zida, Lin Han, and Ding Shuyan entered the ward one after another.

The moment they stepped inside, the smell of disinfectant reached their noses. The floor was still slightly damp; Auntie, who had been cleaning, had only just left.

Zhuang Jianhui lay in the hospital bed with an IV bottle hanging above his head, its contents dripping down one drop at a time.

His eyes were bloodshot. The intense pain after surgery had kept him awake for most of the latter half of the night. His usual high spirits had vanished completely, replaced by confusion and pain.

A middle-aged man and woman sat on the small bed beside him, both equally worried.

At the sound from the doorway, the couple immediately stood and came forward. "You came so early."

Lin Han looked over the middle-aged man. Even after staying up all night to keep watch, his hair was still meticulously combed.

He was Zhuang Jianhui's father, one of the most influential figures in Yuzhou's leadership. With his age advantage, his future would certainly not be limited to a weak third-tier city like Yuzhou.

When Lin Han had first come to Yuzhou with investment capital, the first person she visited had been Father Zhuang.

Lin Han said, "We came to see how Xiaohui is doing."

She then looked at the middle-aged woman. "Sis, you came back too."

Mother Zhuang nodded, sorrow showing on her well-maintained face. "How exactly did Xiaohui get hurt? I was just about to sleep last night when I heard he'd been hospitalized. I rushed back, but it turned out to be this serious?"

Father Zhuang said, "Enough. Don't talk about this. I'll handle Xiaohui's matter."

The moment he said