Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

The hospital was pitch black at night.

Only a yellowish lamp shone under the eaves of the doorway, its shadow trembling gently on the ground when the wind blew.

The young nurse on night duty, wrapped in a cotton-padded coat, was dozing inside the doorway; outside, it was so quiet that the only sound was the wind rustling the window paper.

Suddenly, a sharp screech of brakes ripped through the night.

The car headlights swept in from outside the gate, illuminating the frozen ground in front of the gate in a snowy white light.

Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Ergaizi jumped out. Half his sleeve was soaked in blood, and his hands were smeared black with it. The moment his feet touched the ground, he started yelling at the top of his lungs:

"Where's the doctor?! Come quick! The bleeding won't stop!"

That shout was urgent and sharp, like a knife slicing through the stillness of the night.

The nurse inside was startled. Looking up at Ergaizi's blood-covered appearance, her face turned pale. She turned and shouted inside:

"Doctor! On-call doctor! Come out quickly!"

Zhao Shanhe had already pulled open the car door.

Liang Jiajun lay on the back seat, his clothes soaked in blood. The tattered cotton-padded jacket he had temporarily put on was wet and black, and blood dripped down the hem of his clothes.

The on-duty doctor, wearing a white coat, rushed out from inside, buttoning his coat as he ran, his glasses not even properly on.

He had just reached the car door when he glanced down and saw the pool of blood; his expression immediately changed.

"My God! How can there be so much bleeding?! Where is he injured?!"

Zhao Shanhe gripped the car door, his voice deep:

"Gunshot wound. Upper left chest. It went in deep, and the bleeding hasn't stopped."

The on-duty doctor abruptly stopped, looked up at Zhao Shanhe, and his eyes instantly became extremely wary:

"Gunshot wound?! Who are you people? What happened? Have you called the police?!"

In those days, a shooting in the city was a major case that would shake the heavens.

According to regulations, if the hospital takes on this kind of injury without the police present, it will be in big trouble, and they might even have to take off their white coats.

Zhao Shanhe stood there, his hands covered in blood.

"I am Zhao Shanhe, the new factory director of Hongxing Machinery Factory."

"This is a technical expert our factory hired. He was shot at an abandoned brick and tile factory in the south of the city. He was wounded in the upper left chest, and the bleeding hasn't stopped yet."

"This person is very important to our factory. The former factory director, Liang Tiejun, is already on his way."

"Doctor, save lives first, we can talk about everything else later."

The doctor on duty glanced at him, his lips moved, clearly wanting to ask another question.

But when she looked down and saw the ever-expanding blood on Liang Jiajun's chest and his lips that were beginning to turn purple, she swallowed the rest of her words.

He turned around abruptly and shouted into the room:

"Shortcar! Quickly! Notify the surgical on-call team! Wake up Director Liu! Notify the blood bank to match blood immediately!"

Chaos erupted inside the door. Two stretcher bearers rushed out pushing a gurney, and Zhao Shanhe and Ergazi together lifted Liang Jiajun onto it.

The wheels rattled over the paving stones, carrying a strong stench of blood as they rushed into the emergency room.

Liang Jiajun's eyes were half-open, and all that could be heard in his throat was the sound of gasping for breath, like a broken bellows. His face was as white as paper, but his lips had already begun to turn purple.

The moment the person was wheeled in, the door to the emergency room slammed shut.

The red light above the entrance suddenly lit up, like a burning eye.

The corridor fell silent. Only the smells of disinfectant and blood remained, along with the buzzing of the old incandescent light bulb overhead.

Zhao Shanhe stood at the door, motionless. The blood on his hands was still wet, his palms were sticky, and the cuffs of his cotton-padded jacket were half-soaked in blood.

Erga Zi's chest was still heaving. Standing to the side, he looked up at the red light at the entrance of the emergency room, then at Zhao Shanhe. His Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn't dare to speak first.

After a moment, Zhao Shanhe spoke, his voice low and deep:

"Erga Zi, go to the lobby right now and make a call. Call Director Liang first and tell him that Liang Jiajun has been shot and has been taken into the emergency room. Tell him to bring people over immediately."

Ergazi nodded immediately:

"Okay, I'll go right away."

He had just turned around after speaking when he suddenly stopped and turned back:

"Brother, what about you?"

Zhao Shanhe raised his eyes and glanced at the dark, snowy night outside the window, his voice hardening:

"I have to get back right away. Before I left, although I crippled their boss and calmed things down, those guys aren't just ordinary thugs. They're all seasoned veterans with criminal records, and they're usually out in the dark. Now that the shooting has involved the Red Star Machinery Factory, this is something they can't easily cover up. It's true that Da Zhuang and Lao Xu have guns, but there are only a few of them. If you really push them too far, they're capable of anything."

Erga's face tightened, and he fully understood the seriousness of the matter:

"Okay, brother, go right away. I'll stay at the hospital and keep watch."

Just then, a desperate shout suddenly came from the emergency room:

"Press down! Use gauze! Why won't the bleeding stop?!"

"Your blood pressure is dropping! Quickly get a blood transfusion bag!"

Ergaizi's face turned deathly pale. He instinctively looked at the door, his lips trembling, and after a long pause, he finally managed to utter a low question:

"Brother... what if he really can't be saved and dies?"

Zhao Shanhe stood at the door, stunned for two seconds.

The lights in the corridor hummed, and urgent shouts came one after another from inside the door. The wind slipped in through the crack in the door, causing the hem of his cotton-padded coat to flutter slightly.

He lowered his head to wipe the blood from his hands, pulled his hat brim down, and spoke in a low, deep voice:

"Don't panic, as long as I'm here, the sky won't fall."

Erga stood there, watching his back, and felt that the panic pressing on his chest was half suppressed by those words.

Outside the hospital, the wind and snow intensified.

Zhao Shanhe lowered his head, buttoned up the collar of his cotton-padded coat, and stepped into the night without even looking back.

Only Erga Zi remained standing at the door of the emergency room in the corridor, his hands still wet with blood, while more urgent shouts could be faintly heard from inside.

The red light was on, making people's eyes sting.

Erga wiped his face hard and ran towards the telephone room.

Outside the hospital, the car's engine started up again.

Low and muffled, like a wild beast suppressing its fire.

The next second, the headlights suddenly blazed on, tearing through the dark night at the hospital entrance, and the car turned around and headed straight for the south of the city.