Fu Qingyuan nodded, got up and straightened out the folds on his suit and sent the dog Wensheng to the door of the ward.

"Mr. Fu."

"Mr. Fu."

The black fox and the white fox who were waiting at the door of the ward, shouted after seeing Fu Qingyuan, and then left behind the old man.

In the empty ward, Mo Zishu was lying on the hospital bed, her eyelashes fluttering slightly, but she didn't open her eyes, and she calmed down again after a while.

Fu Qingyuan returned to the ward and continued to stay by Mo Zishu's side.

In the endless darkness, a barefoot figure ran in it, she seemed to be chasing something, one hand kept reaching forward, but there was nothing in front of her, only darkness.

"Little dream, little dream, you wait for me, little dream." The speed of the figure increased, becoming more urgent and urgent, and there was impatience in his voice.

The darkness seemed to flow, and the shouting of the figure stopped, followed by a blinding light.

"Say it or not, damn it, a person who is going to die has such a strict mouth." A rough-looking and large man with an iron in his hand cursed viciously, his eyes flashed with a gloomy light, looking at the thin figure whose limbs were nailed to the wooden frame and covered in blood.

"Go on." A man sitting on a chair next to him looked up at the figure on the wooden shelf with an expressionless face, spit out two words of cruelty, and continued to look down at the book in his hand.

"Okay, since you can't pry it out, then let me torture it." The tall man smiled evilly, held an iron in his hand and grilled it in the boiling flames, and then slowly paced to the thin figure.

"Ah~~" A miserable scream came from the mouth of the thin figure, her blood-stained face was raised high, her eyes were hideous, her voice was rough and sharp, and it was impossible to tell whether she was a female voice or a male voice.

The man's smile deepened as he listened to the screams, his eyes flashed with bloodlust, and then he pressed the soldering iron in his hand against the figure's bare skin even more fiercely.

The scarlet iron made a "sizzling" sound when pressed against the blood-stained skin, like roasting meat.

"Listen, how wonderful your screams are, but it's a pity, you have such a small body that hasn't been tossing for a long time, and you have heart problems, it's a pity." The man shook his head and said with a smile, the soldering iron in his hand was thrown on the ground by him, and he needed to choose the punishment again.

As the soldering iron was removed, the person who was nailed to the wooden frame slowly breathed a sigh of relief, and every breath she exhaled and exhaled involved the wounds all over her body, straight to the brain, and the most painful thing was the heart, which was almost dying, and her heart could no longer support it.

Beneath the wooden frame was a pool of dark purple blood, some of which had coagulated.

"Hehe, the whip is good, lightweight." The man picked out a one-meter-long leather whip made of soft cowhide from a table of torture tools.

He jerked in the air, and the quiet atmosphere seemed to be cut through by the loud sound of a shuddered whip.

"It's not fun to do that, it's even better to dip some salt water." The man's leather whip soaked in a bucket of salt water, then pulled it out and slammed it into the wooden frame.

Perhaps the whip was not as powerful as the soldering iron, and the people on the wooden frame did not scream, but if you looked closely, you could see that her whole body was trembling.

She had lost count of how many whips had fallen on her, each with salt water on them, and the scarred body deeply irritated every wound, like a biting ant gnawing on rotten flesh, ferociously plundering.

"His mouth is so tight, I want to see what he does, so enduring." Seeing that all the means were useless to the man on the wooden frame, the man threw the whip on the ground in a moment of annoyance, and walked over to the man who was sitting and sat down.

"Do you have any good ideas?" As soon as the man sat down, he asked the man next to him.

The man's face was pale, his expression was relaxed, and his scholarly aura was incompatible with this bloody environment, and he held a heavy book in his hand, flipping through it himself, sometimes even pointing to the lines of the article.

"What's the way, dig out her heart and see." The man said in a flat tone, and there was a seamless cold air in it, as if he was saying something easy, which made people shudder.

"It didn't say she was going to die, we can't risk it." The tall man quickly denied what the man said, and quickly shook his head, if the people above knew that they had this kind of thought, they would definitely be plucked off a layer of skin, not to mention that they didn't really want to pry something out of this girl's mouth, but to attract S.

Hearing what the man said, the man didn't speak again, and continued to read the book in his hand.

The people on the wooden frame were no longer tortured, and they drooped and did not know whether they were dead or alive.

The nails of her hands were tightly embedded in the palms of her hands, and bright red blood beads rolled down from her palms and landed on her bare, naked feet.

Anger and hatred enveloped her whole body, and her eyes were scarlet.

This is in Mo Zishu's dream.

She dreamed of Xiaomeng again, since she returned to Rzhou, she would dream of Xiaomeng's figure almost every night, and painful self-blame was entangled in her day by day.

Xiaomeng was tortured, but she couldn't do anything but watch and hide from the sidelines, waiting for the opportunity to rescue Xiaomeng.

Single-handedly, she can't joke with Xiaomeng's life and her own.

In the dream, she wanted to rush out and save Xiaomeng, but she couldn't break through the invisible barrier.

If she had been earlier, it would have been better earlier, Xiaomeng would still be alive, her heart, everything about her would still be there.

Gradually, dull and painful memories were like thorny vines tightly strangling her body, as if they were about to sink into her body and suffocate her.

Mo Zishu's body on the hospital bed suddenly trembled slightly, and the originally plain brows wrinkled together at some point, like a deep ravine, with endless sorrow in it, her forehead was covered with fine sweat, and her face became painful, as if she couldn't breathe.

When he was unconscious, Mo Zishu's arm was raised and stretched towards his neck, as if he wanted to break free from the oxygen mask on his face, and as if he wanted to choke his neck.

Fu Qingyuan noticed Mo Zishu's abnormal behavior, and quickly stopped Mo Zishu's palm stretched out to his neck.

His brows furrowed slightly, a trace of puzzlement flashed in his deep eyes, and then he gently grabbed Mo Zishu's wrist and put it down.

Perhaps someone touched it, Mo Zishu's embarrassed face calmed down, the illusory world gradually calmed down, and the painful feelings faded away like a tide.

The fingers of Fu Qingyuan's one hand gently smoothed Mo Zishu's frowning brows, and the warm fingertips seemed to have some kind of magic power, and the smoothed brows never wrinkled again.

The tissue was wiped on the girl's forehead, and the sweat was absorbed little by little.

Fu Qingyuan didn't call the doctor over, because at this time, he was suddenly immersed in those eyes that suddenly opened, immersed in the boundless darkness and depth, and passed along the flow of them.

As soon as Mo Zishu opened her eyes, she was greeted not by the harsh light from the white ceiling, but by the man's eyes full of worry.

"You're awake." The man's deep voice sounded in the girl's ears, like a thunderclap that completely woke up her still somewhat unconscious brain.

"Hmm." Mo Zishu responded, her throat was so dry and hoarse, as if there was a fire burning in it.

Fu Qingyuan seemed to feel Mo Zishu's discomfort, got up and poured a glass of warm water, inserted it, put it into the straw, took off her oxygen mask, and handed it to Mo Zishu's mouth.

Mo Zishu pursed her dry lips, licked her lips with the tip of her pink tongue, and finally drank water with a straw.

The moisturizing of the warm water instantly cools the dry throat.

There was silence for a while.

Mo Zishu looked at the clear face of the man in front of him, and for some reason the heavy displeasure in his heart was instantly washed away.

Qi Yu told her that Fu Ye left R Zhou early in the morning and went to country M for a meeting, and when she woke up, she actually saw Fu Ye, which means that he already knew everything, and suddenly didn't know what to say.

"If I don't come, you've been hiding it from me." Fu Qingyuan saw through Mo Zishu's careful thoughts, and couldn't help laughing.

"Master Fu, you're still as smart as ever." Mo Zishu's tone of voice was very light, as light as a feather crossing the tip of Fu Qingyuan's heart, and he was a little itchy.

"Shushu, in the future, you can't be stupid anymore for such a risky thing." Fu Qingyuan sighed, his distinct jawline tilted down slightly, and a wave of helplessness surged up between his eyebrows.

As far as he later knew, it was not his Shushu who sat on the seat where there was a bomb at the beginning, but Shushu took the initiative to replace that person behind, he didn't know the reason, and he didn't understand what made Shushu persistent, regardless of his own life to sit in that position.

"Hmm." Mo Zishu responded lightly.

"Hungry or not, give you some liquid food." Fu Qingyuan took his mobile phone and clicked on the takeaway software, although he was asking Mo Zishu, he had actually started to search for porridge food.

"Okay." Mo Zishu responded.

Fu Qingyuan chose two servings of porridge on the takeaway software, and then selected a few side dishes and finally checked out.

In the short time that Fu Qingyuan ordered takeout, Mo Zishu actually fell asleep and let out a steady breath.

Fu Qingyuan smiled helplessly, and he didn't mean to wake up Mo Zishu, and let her rest before the takeaway was delivered.

When he really rests, it's time for him to understand the truth of the matter.

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