Time flies like an arrow.

Manchester Central Hospital.

In the evening of late autumn, Ji Changmu woke up.

He didn't know what was happening. When he opened his eyes, he saw the white walls and infusion bottles of the ward.

He glanced at the desk calendar on the bedside, stretched out his hand without infusion, took out his medical records, and read them carefully.

The doctor's handwriting is very sloppy, but somehow it feels familiar.

The medical records are very thick, and his daily conditions are recorded in detail on each sheet.

Only then did Ji Changmu realize that he had been lying in the hospital for a week and had an operation during that time.

He remembered... he fainted in class and woke up again now.

Time is really not forgiving, so how could he be reduced to the point of fainting and requiring surgery? If he continues like this, he may not live long.

Ji Changmu struggled to sit up, with a cold and cold expression on his thin facial features, sunken eye sockets, tight lips, and some green stubble on his chin.

The ward door opened.

Ji Changmu raised his head, a trace of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly put away these emotions.

It's Qiao Zhixing, why is he here?

Qiao Zhixing, who was wearing a white coat, had a neither salty nor bland look on his face. He came to check the ward indifferently, with a cold and stiff expression, and barely glanced at Ji Changmu.

Qiao Zhixing took the case from his hand, wrote a few strokes, and said calmly: "I'm awake."

"Excuse me, Doctor Qiao." Ji Changmu's voice was hoarse and he had no strength. He looked like a sick tiger and could not lose his authority.

"This bottle of medicine is almost finished." Qiao Zhixing glanced at the infusion bottle, "There is another bottle left. Don't bother the nurse. I'll hang it up for you."

"Well...thank you."

Qiao Zhixing stood by the bed, with no intention of leaving, his hands in the pockets of his white coat, his expression casual and indifferent.

The atmosphere around is slightly cold.

About five minutes later, Qiao Zhixing removed the needle from his hand.

Ji Changmu:?

He was a little puzzled. Although he had no medical knowledge, he still knew about infusion.

Why should you remove his syringe? You can just replace it with a new medicine bottle.

Qiao Zhixing had a cold look on his face, ignored Ji Changmu's eyes, and gave him another injection: "I'm sorry, my acupuncture technique is a bit substandard."

The first injection showed no blood, so he gave Ji Changmu another injection.

Ji Changmu frowned and said nothing.

This Qiao Zhixing was obviously avenging his private revenge.

This time it was successful. Qiao Zhixing smiled harmlessly: "I still have to practice my acupuncture technique."

"..." Ji Changmu had some doubts about whether Qiao Zhixing left anything in his mind during the operation, such as cotton swabs and gauze.

Qiao Zhixing showed two rows of white teeth, which was in sharp contrast to Ji Changmu's coldness.

Ji Changmu was at his mercy: "Why did Dr. Qiao come to England?"

"I came here as soon as I got the call." Qiao Zhixing said casually to Ji Changmu, "I was your former attending doctor. They found my number from somewhere and insisted that I come over and perform this operation for you. As a doctor

, will not ignore death."

"Am I serious?"

"It's hard to say. If the recovery is not good, there is a possibility of amnesia in the future. In other words, you will slowly forget the past, even the people you were closest to."

Ji Changmu's expression changed. He raised his haggard eyes and stared at Qiao Zhixing.

He wasn't sure if Qiao Zhixing was joking with him.
Chapter completed!