Fu Jinghen glanced at the sleeping Wen Qiao, gently pulled his arm out, and quietly got out of bed.
The quality of the hospital bed naturally couldn't compare to the one at their home. Fu Jinghen wasn't as light as a feather, so his movement immediately made the bed creak.
Wen Qiao's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she made a small noise. Fu Jinghen immediately stopped, patted her back twice, and waited for her frown to relax before he straightened up and walked out of the ward with his phone.
He dialed Feng Li's number, and after two seconds, the call connected.
The hospital corridor was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Fu Jinghen stood by the window at the end of the corridor, looking out into the dense night.
"Did he say anything?"
