At this time, in a luxury ward of a private hospital.

He was lying in bed, dressed in his sick clothes, with bandages wrapped around his face and around his knees. His legs were fixed and the whole person looked very depressed.

However, there is still a very dark taste in this depression.

The smell came from his bones and could never be erased.

Mr. Mo, wearing a white down jacket, was standing beside him. His face was still swollen. Ten hours had passed, and his palm prints were still there. It was clear how powerful the slap before Su Rui had used.

"Less cold, the operation was successful." Mr....