"Sir, please think carefully, it really wasn't me who hit you." Emma Campbell tried to appeal to the old man's conscience, wiping her tears as she fell to the bedside, pleading with him.
The old man was about eighty years old, and at this point, it was unclear if he was confused or just trying to extort Emma. He said, "You all are being too hard on the child. Look how pitiful she is. I don't seem to be injured badly."
The man with a gold necklace immediately glared and said, "Dad, are you confused? You're of old age; a hit like this can't be trivial. Later, if you're bedridden, we'll have to take care of you! Also, do you know how expensive this hospital is? Since last night to now, it's already cost over a thousand dollars. If we stay for a few more days, who knows how much it'll be! This girl hit you, so she has to be responsible."
The old man immediately went silent and, with a sigh, closed his eyes.
