Ye Zhoushan asked for directions all the way until he reached the door of the operating room. Lan Qingshuang had undergone surgery earlier that morning, but an hour ago, her condition had taken a critical turn, and she was rushed back into the operating room.

Outside the operating room, Aunt Deng, Ge Xiu, Aunt Lin, and the barefoot doctor Old Mo, who had helped along the way, were all waiting with weary expressions. Little Fuman, nestled in Ge Xiu’s arms, was crying so hard that her eyes were swollen and red, hiccupping uncontrollably.

When she caught sight of him, her sobs, which had just begun to subside, grew loud again.

“Wahhh…”

[Daddy, hold me. Fuman is scared. I want Mommy. Daddy, beat up the bad people.]

Ye Zhoushan’s heart felt as though it were shattering. Without stopping to speak to the others, he hurriedly gathered his daughter into his arms, holding her close.

“Fuman, be good. Daddy’s here. Don’t be afraid, my dear.”

“Wahhh…”

[Daddy, bad people snatched us, pushed Mommy. It hurt.]

[Bad people bullied Fuman. Mommy got angry.]

[Daddy, baby is scared, wahhh…]

The little one sobbed and hiccupped as she complained, her tiny voice hoarse from crying. She couldn’t stop hiccupping. Ye Zhoushan felt as though a fire were burning in his chest, nearly consuming his rationality. It was only by pressing against his daughter’s feverish little cheek and breathing in her milky scent that he managed to restrain himself.

“Good girl, Daddy knows. Daddy understands everything. It’s alright. Mommy will be fine. Daddy will chase the bad people away and get revenge for Mommy and Fuman.”

“Sweetie, don’t cry anymore. Your voice is hoarse. Do you want to break your daddy’s heart?”

The little one, soothed by her father, gradually quieted her crying, though she couldn’t stop hiccupping right away. Ye Zhoushan’s breath trembled as he gently patted his daughter’s back to calm her. Seeing the child finally settle down, Aunt Lin and the others let out long sighs of relief.

Aunt Deng said, “This child is clever. She knows who her family is.”

“She’s been crying nonstop out of worry for her mother. No matter how we tried to comfort her, she wouldn’t stop. We were afraid she’d cry herself into a fit.”

“It’s been so long, and she hasn’t eaten or slept. She’s really been through a lot.”

Aunt Lin added, “Yes, young Ye. We came in a hurry and didn’t bring any food for Fuman. Did you bring any?”

Ye Zhoushan kissed his daughter’s little head. “I brought formula. Thank you all for your hard work. I’m truly grateful.”

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t dare imagine the consequences.”

Ge Xiu took the formula, bowl, and spoon from his trembling hands. “There’s no need to thank us. Natural disasters and human calamities are unpredictable.”

“After suffering comes sweetness. Everything will get better.”

“You hold the child and rest for a bit. I’ll go fetch hot water to mix the formula.”

Ye Zhoushan smiled gratefully, though he was still terribly anxious. He glanced at the operating room. “How is the child’s mother?”

Aunt Deng reassured him, “She’ll be fine. She will be. Don’t worry. She’s been in for over an hour. She should be out soon.”

Ye Zhoushan pressed his lips together, unable to relax.

Little Fuman drank her milk and fell asleep in Ye Zhoushan’s arms. She clung tightly to her father, startling awake whenever he tried to move away.

Zhao Weiguo waited for a while, but no one came to claim the child. Eventually, he brought the child to the operating room.

The child didn’t cry or fuss, merely looking around curiously.

For the time being, Ye Zhoushan had no energy to deal with the child. Seeing him sitting quietly to the side, he didn’t say much.

He took out twenty yuan and handed it to Zhao Weiguo. “Brother Weiguo, please take everyone to get something to eat. Then book two rooms at the guesthouse so everyone can rest for the night. You can return tomorrow.”

“I’ll keep watch here. Thank you all.”

Zhao Weiguo pushed the money back. “No need. I brought food—some flatbreads my wife prepared. We can just have them with hot water.”

Old Mo also said, “Yes, and there’s no need to go to the guesthouse. Why waste money? We can make do in the hallway overnight.”

Ye Zhoushan insisted on putting the money into Zhao Weiguo’s hand. “No, no. You’ve worked hard to come all this way. How could I let you go hungry and sleep in the hallway?”

“No one with a conscience would do something so heartless.”

“Please, Brother Weiguo, take everyone. Otherwise, I’ll feel terrible.”

Unable to refuse, Zhao Weiguo took everyone to eat plain noodles and brought a portion back for Ye Zhoushan.

Staying at a guesthouse was out of the question—everyone was prepared to spend the night huddled in the hallway.

During the time they were away eating, Ye Zhoushan held his daughter and sat quietly in the corner by the operating room door.

The little boy squatted nearby, gazing intently at the sleeping Fuman.

“Is the little sister having a nightmare?”

Even in her sleep, Fuman was still hiccupping, her eyes red and swollen.

Ye Zhoushan’s heart ached as he kissed his daughter, forcing a weak smile as he turned to the boy. “What’s your name? Where’s your home? Why aren’t you going back?”

The child grinned, revealing tiny millet-like teeth. “I’m Chengcheng. Not going home. Playing.”

Ye Zhoushan studied the child—his rosy lips and bright eyes, his clothes slightly worn but without patches, and small white shoes on his feet. He clearly came from a well-off family.

His family was probably frantically searching for him right now.

“Even if you’re playing, you should be with adults. What if a kidnapper takes you away?”

The child tilted his head, utterly puzzled, clearly wondering what a “kidnapper” was.

Ye Zhoushan smiled helplessly. For now, there was no way to help the child find his family—he could only wait.

“Are you hungry? Do you want some flatbread?”

The child’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

Ye Zhoushan broke off a piece of the mixed-grain flatbread Zhao Weiguo had brought. It was quite hard, and the child struggled to chew it, his whole face scrunching up with effort. He could only manage tiny bites at a time.

But he seemed immensely proud of himself, grinning widely to show Ye Zhoushan.

Children were angels, and Ye Zhoushan’s gloomy mood lightened slightly.

Before long, a middle-aged woman rushed over. “Chengcheng, you little rascal! Why did you run off here? I’ve been searching everywhere for you!”

She reached out to grab the child, but Ye Zhoushan subtly moved between them. He looked at the boy and asked, “Who is she?”

The child blinked his big eyes and replied in a milky voice, “Auntie.”

“Can she take you home?”

The child thought for a moment and nodded.

Only then did Ye Zhoushan feel reassured and handed the child over. “Sorry, I had to make sure.”

The woman seemed displeased but didn’t say much, simply took the child’s hand and left.

The boy turned back and waved at Ye Zhoushan with a bright smile.

Ye Zhoushan smiled and waved back.

Once the child was gone, the dimly lit hallway felt eerily quiet—so quiet that Ye Zhoushan’s heart grew restless.

The operating room doors didn’t open until well past midnight.

The doctor emerged, exhaustion written across his face, and looked at the man too tense to speak.

“Are you the patient’s family?”

Ye Zhoushan hurriedly nodded. “I’m her husband.”

The doctor nodded. “The surgery was successful this time.”

But Ye Zhoushan felt no relief—the doctor hadn’t said his wife was out of danger.

“It’s hard to say whether there will be complications or other issues. The patient needs to be observed in the intensive care unit for forty-eight hours.”

“If she wakes up within forty-eight hours, she’ll be fine. If not… you need to be prepared.”

Ye Zhoushan’s legs gave way, and he nearly collapsed. Zhao Weiguo, who had been standing by, steadied him.

“Zhoushan, don’t worry. She’ll pull through. Your wife is blessed—fate will be kind to her.”

The doctor added, “Yes, try to stay positive. The patient has a strong will to live. During this time, talk to her often to help awaken her consciousness. The chances of her waking up are still quite high. Don’t lose hope.”

Ye Zhoushan’s mind was in chaos, unable to form a coherent thought. He nodded absently, his eyes fixed on Lan Qingshuang as she was wheeled out.

It had only been a day since he last saw her, yet his wife had become so frail. Her face was as pale as paper, her breathing weak, devoid of vitality.

Ye Zhoushan clenched his fists tightly. Those monsters—he would find them, no matter what.