Chapter 827 Wing Is Receiving A Critical Operation (Part One)

As long as we have sincere and strong wishes in our heart and fight hard for them, then, it is certain that our wishes will come true.

Beep...beep...beep...

At the hospital, the heart rate monitor continued its same stable and regular cadence.

Weston woke up suddenly, face contorted in fear like he was in the grip of a nightmare. He quickly turned his attention to the heart rate monitor. After hearing the regular beeping from the machine, he was a little relieved, find out the woman lying on bed was still alive with a normal heart beat. So he took several deep breaths, closing his eyes, but his heart was still racing violently.

He rested his face in his hands, while pain and despair were spread quickly over his features… He rubbed his face, then dropped his hands and opened his eyes. Slowly and quietly, he stood up from the bed, strode over to the other side and sat on the chair, slowly and cautiously grabbing Wing's hand with his and kissing it gently.

Closing his eyes to feel her faint body temperature, Weston knitted his brow painfully, saying desperately, "Wing, please... Please wake up. I'm so scared!"

Still, he got no response, no matter how much he wanted it, and the unchanging sound from the heart rate monitor made him feel even more restless. Pain welled up in Weston as he kissed Wing's hand. Gradually, such pain was overwhelming, and tears ran from his closed eyes. The tears were hot, just like his seething heart. It was now too painful for him to even take a breath.

"Wing… Don't you know I feel so alone?" Weston asked sadly, choked by his tears. It broke his words, sobs racking his body, stopping him at every syllable. "Please... Don't lea-- leave me. P--please God. Ma-make her wake up. Wing. Wake up. Please!"

His helpless voice was full of great sorrow. Weston couldn't help it. He didn't know what else he could do for Wing. Since the doctor kept giving him prognoses of doom, his mind became increasingly restless. Watching her life sli

Jean Wen sacrificed herself for family interests. Before her husband divorced her, she made every effort to please him.

"You are inexperienced in bed," he said coldly.

"You! Give that land to my family, or I won't agree to divorce," Jean replied furiously.

"Fine. It is exactly what I am thinking about," he sneered.

ty footsteps were drawing closer from the end of the corridor.

The footsteps belonged to Brian, Eric and Molly, who were running quickly towards the operating room. As soon as they arrived, they panted and instinctively looked at the closed door of the operating room, then at the listless Weston nearby.

"How is she?" Brian asked Weston in a heavy tone, a look of deep concern on his usual indifferent handsome face.

Weston blankly turned his head and looked at Brian. After gently blinking his feeble and heavy eyelids, he blankly shook his head, and then turned back, without saying a word.

Upon seeing Weston's demeanor Brian knitted his brows, increasingly anxious, but he had no choice but to wait.

Molly's nose turned red, much like her well-bitten lips, and her hands clenched tightly as she fixed her eyes on the door of the operating room. Tears welled in her eyes.

Eric also had a heavy face. He glanced at the rest of them lost in pain, then turned away.

To get an update on Wing's condition, he went to find the head physician's office. Once there, the doctor looked at him, heaved a deep sigh and said seriously, "Miss Long's natural ability to reproduce platelets in her body has gradually declined as a result of her long-term coma, which has prompted the increasing quantity of bad platelets…."