Yan Ningke truly felt how worried Shao Ke was. For three whole days, aside from brief voyages to the bathroom, he had not been allowed out of bed.
He really treated him like something fragile, afraid he would drop him if he held him in his hands, afraid he would melt if he held him in his mouth.
If Yan Ningke had not adamantly refused, Shao Ke would even have carried him to the bathroom.
And that was not all. Ever since he woke up, Shao Ke had stayed by his side without leaving him for a moment.
In the temperature-controlled room, Yan Ningke curled up on the sofa playing on his phone, while Shao Ke worked on his laptop at the other end.
Neither disturbed the other, yet the atmosphere was inexplicably harmonious and peaceful.
The horrific car accident from a few days earlier remained a hot topic online. Under pressure, the various government departments in Lincheng hastily issued a preliminary statement.
It classified the incident as an accident. Yan Ningke read through it carefully and smiled silently.
Shao Yang still covered every base. The truck's damaged brakes were attributed to aging wiring, and with the power of money at work, the driver's wife volunteered that her husband had cancer.
Later, perhaps tormented by his illness, his temperament had changed completely, and he had frequently abused her and their daughter.
She claimed her husband suffered from depression and mania, and shouted every day that he wanted to kill himself.
Her account was coherent from beginning to end. Besides, apart from the Volkswagen driver, whose bad luck had not actually been all that terrible, no one else had been hurt. By contrast, the truck driver's life had been rather tragic.
People online switched sides in droves, going from calling it