After I died, I became the white moonlight of scumbag A's ex-husband

The director of hand surgery at the Central Hospital pondered for a long time before politely apologizing to Zong Ying, whose face was sinking like water.

Zong Ying clenched his fists tightly and remained silent. After a long time, he still couldn't accept the result.

"Director Chen, think about it again, he is a designer! His hands are very important!"

"He is only 25 years old, his hands cannot be broken!"

Director Chen already knew the identity of Hang Jing, and he also felt sorry.

Just now in the operating room, the patient looked at his wrist, the lifeless look in his eyes was like a pool of stagnant water, and the doctors and nurses present felt indescribable.

But some things, no matter how regrettable they are, cannot be undone by humans.

"Mr. Zong, glass shards inserted into the wrist, cutting off Mr. Hang's veins and three tendon nerves."

Director Chen spread out the operation records and various inspection reports one by one on the table, "For such an injury, it was fortunate that he was sent to the hospital in time, and it is a blessing that his life was not endangered."

Zong Ying stared at the diagnostic reports on the table, carefully reading each one. He knew every word, but couldn't understand a single sentence.

All he knew was that Hang Jing's hand was useless.

"In the future, to what extent can he recover?"

Zong Ying still has expectations. Since Hang Jing returned to China three years ago, he has rarely designed works.

But he knew that Hang Jing specially opened up two rooms in his home and made them a studio.

He heard from Uncle Li that Hang Jing didn't let anyone into his studio. Every time he stayed alone for a whole day, he would be in a good mood when he came out.

Hang Jing really likes design and is also a very talented jewelry designer.

This point, Zongying is recognized.

Therefore, he couldn't imagine what would happen to Hang Jing once he learned that his hand was useless from now on.

No matter how many things Hang Jing did wrong, there shouldn’t be such a result.

"According to the current best medical level in the world, no matter how difficult it is to hire an expert, no matter how much money it costs, don't take these into consideration, and do everything you can──Can he... still be engaged in design work?"

Director Chen looked at Zong Ying, and he shook his head helplessly facing the hopeful eyes of the other party.

"What we can do is connect the broken veins and reconnect the tendon nerves."

"Of course, after a period of rehabilitation, Mr. Hang's daily life will not be greatly affected, but I am afraid that he will no longer be able to carry heavy objects, and he will not be able to do too complicated finger movements."

"As far as I know, jewelry design requires a high level of finger flexibility in terms of painting requirements. Not only is Mr. Hang's fingers unable to achieve the required fineness in the painting process, but the long-term hand-held The paintbrush is already beyond the range of the wrist."

While Zong Ying was communicating with Director Chen, Hang Jing was standing at the door of the office.

Through a door, I listened to their conversation from beginning to end.

He lowered his eyes and looked at his wrist, which was wrapped in layers of gauze. The effect of the anesthetic had begun to wear off. When he moved his right hand a little, his whole arm was sore, numb and painful.

He just wanted to move the tip of his index finger, and his face broke out in cold sweat.

His hands are useless.

Hang Jing thought expressionlessly.

Zong Ying was still arguing with the doctor in the room, and seemed to be even more unacceptable to the result than he was.

From the perspective of any outsider, I am afraid that Zong Ying cares about him very much.

It seemed that at this moment, he was really like what the outside world thought, a loving couple with deep affection. His husband, because of his injury, was painfully unwilling to accept the reality.

If there are reporters on the scene, they can write a touching report and make a headline on the front page.

But why bother?

Obviously not like this.

Hang Jing felt a little ironic, Zong Ying really hated him so much, it obviously made him feel so uncomfortable, why didn't he just do something to make him give up completely?

It is too cruel to force a person into a desperate situation, and then hang a lamp far away, only to watch, with the hope of walking into the light, but no matter how hard he tries, he is always trapped in the darkness.

The door of the office was pulled open by Zong Yingqi, and then he was stunned when he saw Hang Jing standing by the door.

"Xiaojing... why are you here?"

Zong Ying was a little flustered, and he subconsciously closed the door of the office, as if this would isolate Director Chen's diagnosis from Hang Jing.

"Did you hear it all?"

Hang Jing stood against the wall and didn't speak.

The more silent he was, the more uneasy Zong Ying felt.

"Don't listen to the doctor's fart. The medical level here is not enough. I'll send you abroad for treatment. It's fine."

"Xiaojing, don't be afraid, your hand will heal."

Hang Jing's eyelids trembled. Hearing the words, he turned his head and glanced at Zong Ying. His eyes were deep and restrained, as if he was hiding a lot of words, but he didn't say a word.

Zong Ying saw that Hang Jing turned around and walked towards the terrace of the hospital, fearing that he would be overwhelmed for a while, so he followed quickly.

Early in the morning, the terrace of the VIP ward of the hospital was empty, and there was no family member of the doctor or patient.

Hang Jing picked a chair at random and sat down. The wind on the terrace messed up his hair.

Zong Ying knew that Hang Jing was feeling bad at the moment, so it was rare that he didn't speak ill of him, but just sat down beside him, watching his every move all the time.

With a vigilant look, it seemed that Hang Jing would jump off the balcony on the third floor at any time and fall to his death on a larger terrace on the second floor.

"Zongying, the first time you told me that you are not afraid is when you came to look for me in country F, just when I was embarrassed by those alphas who discriminated against Asians."

It was so long ago that Zong Ying didn't realize it all at once.

But Hang Jing didn't wait for Zong Ying to recall the details of that incident, and continued talking on his own.

"The second time was during your susceptible period three years ago, when I entered your room and you rushed over to take my clothes off, you said——Xiao Jing, don't be afraid]"

"The third time, last night, you still told me not to be afraid. In the end, my hand was useless."

"I'm not afraid, I've never been, but it's getting worse."

Zong Ying looked at Hang Jing's side face, and when he finished speaking these words calmly, his heart was very complicated.

"We shouldn't have gotten to where we are today."

Zong Ying finally stretched out his hand to straighten Hang Jing's disturbed forehead, with a rare peace of mind, "Xiao Jing, it would have been fine if I hadn't been meddling in the beginning."

"You and I could have been good friends."

Hang Jing turned his head to look at Zong Ying, his eyes were inexplicably focused and serious, and after a while, he looked away──

"You are dreaming!"

"I love you so much, who the hell wants to be friends with you."

Zong Ying almost choked himself to death, but before he could think of what to say, the glass door of the balcony was pushed open again.

A faint mint smell accompanied by a cool voice came from afar.

"Second brother, your wound is cracked again, go back to the ward!"

Immediately afterwards, an impatient male voice shouted arrogantly──

"Back the fart!"

"Don't stop me! I'm going to jump from here today, and I'm going to beat up that kid Xie Qin!"