Dear Mr. Lu

Chapter 40: 40


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In the surgery room, the operation was very successful.

It soon reached the finishing stage.

But the clock was ticking, approaching midnight.

Luo Wencheng was conscious because of the local anaesthetic, and looked at the bright red numbers on the electronic watch.

12:00!

He waited for a moment, the sick feeling rising from the pit of his stomach, and then…

A sharp twinge!

As if a blade had pierced him; Luo Wencheng’s body tensed and his teeth clenched.

The nurse who had been paying attention to his face thought he was nervous, and smiled to comfort him: “It’s almost done, it’s being stitched up.”

Luo Wencheng tried to smile at her too, but his smile froze before it truly appeared on his face. His brows frowned, and beads of sweat oozed on his forehead. The nurse was puzzled, and then she heard the sharp chirping of the monitor.

Heart rate and blood pressure spiked past the alert level in an instant!

Lu Chong was sitting outside the surgery room, his back straight, his deep features clearly illuminated by the lights in the corridor.

He gently rubbed the thumb and index finger of his right hand with a thoughtful look on his face, and even the shadows cast by his lowered eyelashes on his face seemed deep.

He was trying to remember what he was feeling, trying to find the source of that oddly upsetting emotion.

The medical staff who came and went didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly, because this man’s presence was so overwhelming and oppressive.

At this moment, the door of the surgery room opened, the people inside hurriedly came out, and then the people outside hurriedly entered, as if something unexpected had happened.

Lu Chong heard the words “Patient in Surgery Room 3”.

Luo Wencheng was in Surgery Room 3!

He got up and headed for the surgery room.

“Sir, you can’t go in.” The head nurse boldly came up to stop him, “It’s a sterile area, and family members can’t go in.”

Lu Chong frowned: “What happened to the patient in Surgery Room 3?”

“Mr. Lu.” The assistant of the chief surgeon came out of the surgery room, “The patient wants to see you, so you can come in wearing isolating clothes.”

Lu Chong suddenly thought absurdly of “seeing for the last time”, and even with his strong heart, he couldn’t help but flinch.

He took the isolating clothes handed over by the head nurse, without any care for the dressing procedure draped it over his body in an amateurish manner and walked inside without even putting on the shoe covers: “What’s the situation? Isn’t it a minor injury?”

The assistant’s legs went weak at his question and he said, “The surgery was successful, very successful, but I don’t know why the patient’s heart rate and blood pressure suddenly turned abnormal. We tried some methods to no avail, and the patient…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Lu Chong walked into the surgery room. On the operating table, Luo Wencheng was making a fuss to get down. A circle of people around him tried to stop him. His weak, trembling voice reached Lu Chong, “I’m fine, I want to go out.”

Lu Chong quickly walked over and saw that the young man’s right shoulder had been stitched up and he was breathing, so he let out a sigh of relief.

At this moment, he realised that his heart was stagnant and it turned out that he was holding his breath just now. 

He stepped forward and held Luo Wencheng’s intact left arm: “Don’t make trouble, lie down obediently.”

Luo Wencheng raised his head; his whole body was drenched in sweat and his hair was wet. He squinted for a long time before he seemed to recognise Lu Chong. He said, aggrieved: “The surgery is over. I’m just nervous… I just want to go out and get some air, that’s it.”

As he said that, he clutched his abdomen and gasped for breath. Anyone could see his pain.

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After speaking, he leaned on Lu Chong, having no more strength.

Lu Chong looked at the blinding numbers pulsing on the monitor. His blood pressure soared up to 200. He, a layman, knew how abnormal this was. He looked sharply at the orthopaedic specialist standing aside.

The orthopaedic specialist was wearing a hat, mask and glasses. It could be said that he was fully armoured, but he still felt that his whole face ached from this glare. He said with deliberation: “We can’t find the exact cause at the moment. I have asked the cardiovascular medicine, neurology and gastroenterology departments to consult.”

Luo Wencheng was clutching his stomach, which was something even an orthopaedic surgeon understood.

In fact, the expert even wondered a little if Luo Wencheng was an addict, but to say so in front of the honourable master? He didn’t want to quit his job.

“Sir, no, so many people, it’s, it’s an old problem…” Luo Wencheng tugged at Lu Chong’s clothes, struggling to say between gasps, “In a while, it will be fine…”

Lu Chong’s pupils shrank for a moment; he hugged Luo Wencheng and said to the others: “You all go out, I will stay with him.”

The specialist wanted to say something else, but there was nothing that could be done with so many people gathered here, and since the cause of the disease was not clear and the person’s status was high, who dared to administer the medicine or something?

Lu Chong and Luo Wencheng were the only two people left in the surgery room.

Because of the surgery, the bed was adjusted a bit lower. Lu Chong knelt on the bed on one knee, took Luo Wencheng in his arms, stroked his hair and back, and soothed him over and over again in a gentle voice he didn’t even notice: “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

The muscles of his arms tensed, accumulating strength. He was worried that Luo Wencheng would struggle and hurt himself, and constantly watched him, nervous that he would be delirious and bite his tongue.

But no, he was just in pain, just sweating madly, just leaning on Lu Chong weakly, trembling, enduring some unknown pain, and making no extra movement.

He looked at Luo Wencheng silently. There were no needle or other suspicious traces. However, there were finger-shaped bruises on both his shoulders and arms.

Luo Wencheng’s skin was white and tender. The violence he suffered when he was kidnapped was clearly visible on his body, and there were even several bruises on his back. With Lu Chong’s eyesight and experience, he could naturally see that they were caused by the pressure of knees and elbows.

He could even recreate the scene in his mind.

“……”

Lu Chong took a deep breath; his eyes were so cold that they could freeze people. On the contrary, his voice became a bit softer and the movements of his hands even gentler.

Luo Wencheng’s upper body was bare. Lu Chong’s hand was wet with sweat when he touched it. However, Lu Chong, who was usually very resistant to getting closer to others even slightly, didn’t mind at this moment. Even when the sweat soaked through the clothes on his chest, he didn’t mind.

After nearly twenty minutes, Luo Wencheng gradually relaxed. Lu Chong felt it, lowered his head and asked him softly, “Are you feeling better?”

Luo Wencheng blinked sluggishly as he leaned on his chest: “Yeah…”

“Then I’ll call them in. Your wound is bleeding, let them check it again.”

Lu Chong was talking as if coaxing a child.

Luo Wencheng pulled the corner of his mouth in a tiny smile.

He was not strong enough to talk now.

Lu Chong then called those doctors outside to come in.

The specialist checked the surgical incision and said that there was just a little blood and no re-injury. He personally sewed the last stitch, put on gauze and asked for instructions: “Shall we go back to the ward first, or should we do some tests here?”

Lu Chong looked at the exhausted, feeble young man in his arms, “Back to the ward.”

With that, he bent down and picked Luo Wencheng up straight away.

The specialist who was calling for a trolley felt his voice stick in his throat; he only dared to follow and remind, “Be careful not to move his right arm, keep it absolutely still.”

Liu Weizhi, Uncle Ding and others had missed the moment when their master had barged into the surgery room all of a sudden. And before they could figure out what was going on, they saw him come out again.

The image of their master comically wearing green isolating clothes opened on his chest and holding a weak, handsome young man with snow-white skin in his arms, was indescribably strange, yet somehow ambiguous.

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