Young Master’s Favorite, Where is She Going?

Jun Moyan turned to look at Xiaocha, with a pale face, and asked: "...Where is Xiao Ai?"

"Ms. Wen and her cousin left this morning and said they were going home to the Holy City. Miss Wen kept calling you, but your phone was turned off. There should be something urgent at Miss Wen's house, because when she left Keep crying."

boom.

Jun Moyan exploded like a thunder in his brain, directly exploding his heart to pieces.

His legs softened, and he took a half step backwards, his figure shook for a while, and he almost fell to the ground.

Come back home?

Go... gone?

"Miss Wen asked me to tell you, let you wait for her, she will come back."

Jun Moyan's ears were buzzing, and his brain was dizzy, almost untenable.

He seemed to have heard the passage behind Xiaocha, but he didn't seem to hear it.

The heart is like being torn into two pieces abruptly. It hurts, and it hurts too hard to bear.

Jun Moyan felt like the sky was falling for the first time.

Wen Xiaoai's sudden departure was even more unbearable for Jun Moyan than killing him.

"Hey, Third Young Master, where are you going?"

Xiaocha looked at Jun Moyan, who stumbled and ran out of the villa holding his chest, and began to panic.

A few minutes later, a car drove out of Wuyuan at an extremely dangerous speed, so scared that the guard thought something was wrong and almost stopped.

Jun Moyan panicked all over, panicked to be at a loss, just thinking about looking for her.

Find? Where to find? Of course it was the wood she once fell...

And two minutes after Jun Moyan's car drove, another car drove out of Wuyuan at an unfailing speed.

Tsing Yi drove the red light all the way to the Second People’s Hospital and almost took the traffic police to the hospital...

"Fortunately, it was discovered in time, otherwise it would be true..." The doctor stood by the hospital bed with the medical record book, and couldn't help but feel distressed when he looked at the man on the bed who was haggard by the pain.

"The effect of your previous chemotherapy was not very good. You must be mentally prepared."

"...If I give up treatment..." His voice was so weak that it would dissipate when the wind blows.

"Sorry, I am a doctor, even if the hospital respects your choice, I can't let you wait to die." The doctor interrupted him directly.

"If... I give up treatment... only relying on... medicines to maintain, how long can I last...?" He opened his eyes, ignoring the doctor's words, and continued to ask.

The doctor looked at him, was silent for a moment, and said, "...Can you believe me once?"

"... Chemotherapy is too painful... I'm afraid... I'm afraid I won't be able to get off the operating table... There is still someone waiting for me... I want to go back to see him..."

He really couldn't keep going.

He didn't want to waste the last time in the hospital, let alone spend the rest of the time in the hospital.

He was afraid that in case he would never get off the operating table any time, he was afraid that he would leave suddenly like this and would not even be able to see him for the last time.

"He is very important to you, right? Does he know your condition? Can he come to the hospital?"

"...I can't let him see me like this..."

"When are you still thinking about these things? You are only in your twenties. There are a lot of cancer-fighting people who are younger than you. Why do you give up and give up?!" The doctor is also a young man and a person who loves life. .

He takes special care of alcoholics who are alone from hospitalization to various large and small operations.