Chapter 583

Once the most elegant, now only unruly.

Yan Zhengling was staring at him with tears running down.

Finally, because he could not restrain his grief, he reached out to block his mouth, so that he could not let his cry come out.

She accompanied him in the ward for nine hours, not eating or drinking, so quietly looking at him.

The doctor urged her many times, Yan Zhengling was disappointed to answer him: "let me accompany him a little more."

She had never heard of him in her life. He always wanted to tie her around. And she always had every reason to leave him.

If she was not so headstrong and willful, perhaps her brother would not have suffered such a disaster. Even if he can't avoid such a disaster, with her around him, at least he won't be as lonely as he is now.

The anesthetic effect gradually weakened, and warlord awoke slowly from his long sleep. Consciousness slowly gathered, dizzy, eyelids too heavy to support.

But the ear is to hear the low sobbing sound, that voice with restraint and forbearance, clearly in the heart of grief, but dare not cry.

Lord Zhan was distracted by this annoying cry. He was not dead. Would it be a little early to mourn.

"I'm sorry, brother. I'll never leave you again." Yan Zhengling's voice, with the sheepishness and timidity, was ringing in his ears.

Zhan hanjue's dead and silent heart is like a dead tree in the cold winter when it suddenly meets the scorching sun like spring. All the ice and snow are melted, and all the decaying and dead withered water are poured into the spring, and a green land full of spring is born.

It is his Zheng Ling who has come back.

He was overjoyed and sentimental.

Why is it this time?

It's no wonder that she cried so hard to see him so depressed and haggard.

The doctor came in again and urged Yan Zhengling, "madam, you have been here for nine hours. You have to drink and eat before you can have the energy to continue to accompany the president! "

"Nine hours!" Yan Zhengling was surprised that time passed so quickly.

Perhaps the lucky number "Nine" expelled her sadness. She suddenly gave a smile and said to the warlord, "brother, I'll see you again tomorrow."

After Yan Zhengling left, the ward was dead again.

But Zhan hanjue opened his eyes slowly at this time.

In the white intensive care unit, disinfectant water spurts the whole ward, and the sunlight spreads from the window screen to the ground, forming mottled shadows.

As if all that had just been heard was a mirage, the listless pupil of the cold Lord closed slowly.

The next day.

The doctor made a comprehensive test for Han hanjue, and finally announced: "the president's vital signs have become stable and completely out of danger. It can be transferred to the general ward. "

So. Han hanjue was transferred to the VIP ward of the hospital.

After the anesthetic was over effective, Lord Zhan opened his eyes leisurely again.

When he found himself lying on the hospital bed, his legs were unconscious and unable to move, the face of the cold Lord was immediately covered with ice.

"What's wrong with my leg?" He asked the doctor.

There was an ominous premonition in his heart, because he recalled that on the night of the accident, when he was attacked by gangsters, the gangsters had injected his legs with unknown substances.

Obviously, the purpose of the group was achieved.

"President, you have mild muscle atrophy in your legs."

"Can you still stand up?" He asked, biting his teeth.

The doctor's face was very solemn, "president, it needs a miracle."

There was a sneer of self mockery on the corner of his lips.

It's impossible to recover forever. Now he should pray that his legs will not continue to deteriorate.

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