11:36 PM.
Wang Longhu sat on the long stainless steel bench outside the operating room, twirling his phone, which was already turned off, and staring idly at the ceiling.
Beside him, Zheng Dongliang and a group of Zhou Juanjie's friends were all anxiously waiting outside the operating room.
"Kid, what happened to your friend that they need surgery so late at night?" An old man dressed as a janitor sat down next to Wang Longhu with a mop and asked calmly.
"His head hit a rock, probably needs seven or eight stitches." Wang Longhu replied.
"Kids these days are really careless; the typhoon hasn't even come yet. If it does, and they go out, it could be a big problem, you young folks..." The old man lamented.
"A typhoon is coming?" Wang Longhu was surprised, he truly hadn't heard about this.
Ever since learning Xingyi Boxing from Master Chen, Wang Longhu spent considerably less time on his phone every day.
