Jiang Yanchu hurried around Duan Qizhao and reached to push open the door.
"Hey, hey, hey-" Duan Qizhao caught his arm. "Brother Yanchu, calm down! If you go in now, your brother will beat you out with an IV stand!"
Jiang Yanchu already had his hand on the door handle, the veins on his forehead throbbing.
"His injuries haven't even fully healed!" He lowered his voice, each word seeming to squeeze through his teeth. "What right does that penniless brat Shen Wangjing have-does he deserve him? He can't even take proper care of himself. How is he supposed to take care of my brother?!"
"Who cares whether he deserves him? Isn't it enough that your brother likes him?" Duan Qizhao pulled him back with all his strength. "Besides, Brother Shen just took four knife wounds for your brother. Every single one drew blood. Have you forgotten already?"
Jiang Yanchu paused for an instant.
Duan Qizhao pressed his advantage. "Think about it. Who was the first to rush over when Xun'er was kidnapped? Who carried him all the way from the alley entrance to the ambulance while covered in blood? Brother Yanchu, take my advice. Going in right now won't do you any good."
"Don't you know Xun'er's temper? The more you try to stop him, the more determined he gets. If he really does hit you with an IV stand, am I supposed to stop him or hand you a shield?"
In the end, Jiang Yanchu chose selective deafness and pushed the door open.
"Xiao Xun, you-uh."
His voice caught in his throat, and he froze in place as though someone had hit pause.
On the hospital bed, Jiang Xun leaned against the raised headrest, holding a cup of warm water with a straw and taking small sips. Shen Wangjing