Mo Chen moved faster than anyone had ever seen him. He scooped Qingxue up, her body limp and light in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. His usual cold, calm face was gone, replaced by a look of pure panic.
"Qin Rourou!" he said again, his voice cracking. He ignored Ye Wan, who was now just a statue in the hallway, her face frozen in a look of feigned worry. Mo Chen rushed back into his office, kicking the door closed behind him.
He gently placed Qingxue on the soft leather sofa. His hands, usually so steady, were shaking as he fumbled for his phone. He dialed a number with a speed that spoke of deep, gut-wrenching fear. "Doctor Liu, it's Mo Chen. Get to my office now. It's a medical emergency. My wife... she's unconscious."
