Lin Mo did not hesitate for a second.
He stepped past the sterile glass doors of the intensive care ward. Beside him, the hum of life-support machines sounded like tired sighs. The twin baby girls in Lin Shan’s trembling arms were still whimpering softly. Thin red veins pulsed beneath their pale foreheads, creeping toward their temples like venomous spider legs.
Lin Shan looked up with hollow, tear-stained eyes. His white hair fell across his wrinkled brow. He was only twenty-five years old, yet he looked like an old man on his deathbed.
“Chairman Lin,” Lin Shan choked out, his voice cracking like dry parchment. “You cannot let this child hurt herself for us. We are just strangers from an outer mining colony. We do not deserve this.”
Little Guo’er placed both of her small hands on Lin Shan’s trembling knee.
“You are not strangers,” Little Guo’er said, her voice bright and clear. “Big Brother Lin Mo saved my heart in Jiangcheng when I was sick. I was small, and I had no money, but he bought the hospital and cured me. Now it is my turn to help you and the babies.”
She turned around and set her bright yellow school backpack on a nearby metal chair. Next to it, she carefully placed her small wooden medicine mortar.
