Desperate Pretense At Being Poor

When Fu Zhihuan and Wen Ruan arrived at the hospital where Zhang Hongrui was, it was completely dark.

The atmosphere at the entrance of the intensive care unit was very depressing, and there were police officers in police uniforms guarding the entrance. The surrounding medical staff came and went, all of them looked tense.

Seeing Fu Zhihuan coming, a police officer hurriedly took two steps forward and explained in a low voice: "Mr. Fu, the doctor told us that Zhang Hongrui's vital signs are very unstable now, and the disturbance of consciousness is also very serious. ."

Zhang Hongrui is over half a year old now, and he has neither knowledge nor ability in this life. But relying on those contemptible things, he made a lot of money, and the rest of his life was drunk.

A few years ago, I had a wife who was 20 years younger than me. Who knew that after being diagnosed with brain cancer half a year ago, that woman stole all the money, even a fraction Nothing left.

Zhang Hongrui spent half his life extravagant and didn't give himself much money. In order to survive, he had to sell his house and spend his money to treat the disease. on the organ.

Wen Ruan did not enter the ward, but looked inside through the glass window in front of the door.

It was the first time she saw such a man.

Absurdly thin, with deeply sunken eye sockets, like a skin on a skull armor. The skin is also overly loose, the folds are deep and dense, the dry and yellow color, and the shocking spots make people feel numb in the back.

I don't know why, Zhang Hongrui's current appearance makes life not a little sympathetic, but even more disgusting.

Fu Zhihuan walked to Wen Ruan's side, followed her gaze and asked in a calm tone, "How long can he live?"

The police sighed: "The doctor said that the longest may not be more than a week. The fastest ... may be tomorrow, or today. And the doctor said that Zhang Hongrui discussed with his son some time ago, if this Zhou's condition can't be improved, and he may be notified to the hospital for euthanasia, because he can't stand the painful process of chemotherapy anymore."

Wen Ruan frowned and lowered her eyes, as if someone had grabbed her heart, she was depressed and uncomfortable.

A week?

A normal court session, after all the procedures, will take almost a month.

Even if special circumstances apply for an early hearing schedule, one week is obviously not enough.

However, Fu Zhihuan looked calmer than expected. He just looked at the man lying on the hospital bed quietly from the window.

Fifty-nine.

Enjoyed the whole life, and then patted on the butt, died lightly, and let the heinous things that I did before like a fart.

Is it disgusting?

The doctor pushed open the door and came out, took off his mask, glanced at the police around him, and sighed: "The patient's condition is not optimistic, but I have regained some consciousness just now, what is your problem? You can go in and ask."

Seeing that the police were entering one after another, Fu Zhihuan closed his eyes and frowned, as if he was digesting some emotion.

After a long time, he opened his eyes and said in a hoarse voice to Wen Ruan beside him, "Will you wait for me in the car?"

Wen Ruan nodded: "Yes."

She could guess that Fu Zhihuan didn't let herself into the ward, probably because she didn't want to hear anything, and she didn't want to leave a shadow because of Zhang Hongrui.

On a closer look, I know how terrifying Zhang Hongrui looks.

The tumor had spread all over the body, and the daily chemotherapy had tortured him impersonally. Even the beast looked brighter than him.

Facing the police's questioning, she pursed her lips tightly and did not utter a single syllable.

The police have some headaches.

Although DNA is enough to determine that the murderer is Zhang Hongrui, if the trial is to be speeded up, the prisoner's direct confession may be able to reduce many unnecessary processes.

But now, he refuses to say a word.

It seems that she is preparing to consume it to the end.

Make it clear that no matter whether you live or die, you don't want others to live comfortably.

Fu Zhihuan leaned against the wall and watched for a long time, his eyelids moved, then he suddenly straightened up, walked slowly to Zhang Hongrui and stopped, lowered his head, his eyes were calm, just Indifferently asked three words: "is that you?"

Zhang Hongrui's eyes finally regained some light, his eyes flickered, and then he turned his head stiffly like a puppet and looked at Fu Zhihuan.

After a long time, in a voice that was hoarse to the point of horror: "Who are you?"

Fu Zhihuan: "Her brother."

The word "she" doesn't need to be pointed out, Zhang Hongrui already knows it. words

Even as he spread out, he also made a painful cry of "Ouch, Ouch".

Looks like he still won't say anything.

The premise of this sentence is that it must be an individual first.

Zhang Hongrui has earned a lifetime of money by selling his conscience, and has long had nothing to do with this word. A heart has long been twisted to the extreme in the pain of repeated chemotherapy, even if he is hanging with only one breath left, he has to pull a few people and himself to suffer together.

"You will not die."

Fu Zhihuan seemed to have long guessed that Zhang Hongrui would react like this, he laughed softly, and kept his pace very slow: "The Fu family will invite the world-class oncology department. Doctor, let you live this month well and wait for the trial."

Zhang Hongrui's eyelids moved.

"You will continue to live like this day in and day out, and a tumor that spreads to your body can make your life worse than death. Mr. Zhang, you should know better than me how brain cancer patients experience The pain, projectile vomiting, and edema, but you can rest assured that even if one foot goes through hell, we'll do everything we can to get you back."

Speaking of this, Fu Zhihuan's voice was a little lower, like a spell that couldn't be shaken off his ears: "Since you don't plead guilty, we will wait until the day when the court sentence is pronounced."

This passage successfully made Zhang Hongrui, who had his eyes tightly closed, suddenly open his eyes.

The wide eyes looked particularly scary in the sunken eye sockets, his lips kept twitching, and his body was shaking: "You are not qualified..."

"Your son will agree." Fu Zhihuan's voice was clear and gentle, but it made him feel inexplicably creepy: "There is no child who does not want his father to live, let alone, if there are enough Where's the money?"

The two looked at each other.

Fu Zhihuan's words just now lied to Zhang Hongrui.

The time given by the doctor is already very objective, Zhang Hongrui looks like this, even if the genius doctor is alive, he will not be able to let him live longer this week.

His body metrics are reaching extremes.

Therefore, Fu Zhihuan must let him confess his crimes while he is alive.

This may be the first time, when Fu Zhihuan faced the prisoner, he threw away all his calmness and said these words in such an extreme way.

Because of his identity at this moment, he is not a prosecutor, but a brother.

The atmosphere dropped to freezing point.

Finally, at this moment, the fifty-nine-year-old Zhang Hongrui completely collapsed. He slipped back weakly, and was quickly supported by the nurse beside him.

He raised his head and looked at the policeman in front of him, his voice trembling: "I plead guilty."

This sentence is like a final word.

Although Zhang Hongrui spoke very lightly, in a trance, he seemed to hear the echoes of the three in an empty room.

Fu Zhihuan got the answer he wanted.

He didn't stop, but simply turned around and walked towards the door, but before taking a few steps, he felt a sudden blackness in front of his eyes, a buzzing sound in his skull, syncope.

He closed his eyes, steadied his steps, took a deep breath, and adjusted his emotions. But when he opened his eyes again, his eyes were already red.

Twenty years.

He finally waited for this confession.

The hospital has a long passageway, and it only takes half a minute to walk from one end to the other.

In this half-minute, however, there was a sudden noise from the intensive care unit behind him, and countless doctors and nurses rushed in, accompanied by loud shouts, and the footsteps were messy.

Fu Zhihuan stopped, didn't look back, and got on the elevator.

The bright red numbers on the screen jump down one by one, and then reach the minimum value.

“ding—”

The elevator door opened slowly.

Fu Zhihuan passed through the bustling crowd in the hall, through the long queue of family members who paid at the window, and through countless blazing incandescent lights.

The sensor glass door slowly opened, Fu Zhihuan raised his head subconsciously—

Wen Ruan stood in front of the door and looked at herself with a smile.

She seemed to see something in Fu Zhihuan's eyes, then stepped forward, stood on tiptoe to hug him, and said softly in his ear, "Come on, give me a hug."

A warmth rushed through the dense dark clouds, passed through the cold ice edges, and spread to the bottom of the frozen heart.

"Has Zhang Hongrui pleaded guilty?" Wen Ruan asked.

Wen Ruan could hear that Fu Zhihuan deliberately coaxed himself when he said this.

She can probably guess that the process may not be as smooth as he said, but she just curled her lips and smiled lightly, without dismantling: "Well, that's good."

The two walked forward side by side.

Through the lush boulevard of the hospital, through the elegant pavilion beside the road, through the cobblestone road.

But not the same as before.

He doesn't have nothing.

After getting into the car, Fu Zhihuan's phone suddenly vibrated—

[Zhang Hongrui entered the emergency room, the doctor said that there is a high probability that he will not survive tonight. 】

Can't live tonight?

Fifty-nine.

This calculation may be barely counted as the end of life.

Fu Zhihuan sneered at the corner of his lower lip, threw his phone aside, adjusted his breath, and prepared to drive without incident.

But when I put my hand down, I found that I didn't even have the strength to engage.

The back of his hand trembled slightly, then suddenly lowered his head weakly, raised one hand to support his forehead, and closed his eyes tightly.

Wen Ruan turned her head.

Even if I didn't see the expression on Fu Zhihuan's face, I could read the great pain in his heart at this moment.

It was a kind of depression that seemed to be piercing and roaring even though there was no sound.

I don't know why, although I haven't asked what happened yet, Wen Ruan still feels inexplicably wanting to cry.

She sniffed, took a deep breath, straightened up, raised her hand, hugged Fu Zhihuan's head gently, and said in a hoarse voice, "From tomorrow, Tong City will be sunny. "

There are still many things in the world, and you can never get what you want by waiting.

But it will always wait until the day when the clouds clear.

"I can wait with you."

The author has something to say: It will be sweet from tomorrow! !

Son candy tomorrow!

Thanks to the little angel who irrigated the nutrient solution: Ruan 10 bottles; Huanger 6 bottles; I don't have 3 bottles of taro pie; Zhi 2 bottles; Mu Xi and Sha 1 bottle;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!