When the first ray of morning sunshine fell on Hangzhou, outside an operating room in a Tier-3A hospital, the corridor was crowded yet eerily silent.
Among those present were experts and doctors in white coats, high-ranking police officers in uniform, as well as powerful figures from within the system.
They either sat or stood, all sporting dark circles under their eyes and reddened eyelids, but none of them had the slightest hint of sleepiness.
Jiang Gang, who was at the center of the crowd, had also stayed awake all night. His eyes were bloodshot and his injured right hand had been bandaged and treated without major issue.
Despite being the middle of April and Hangzhou's temperature skyrocketing to above 20 degrees, despite the morning sun shining through the glass windows into the corridor, everyone still felt a chill.
This chill came from within their hearts.
This chill was because of Jiang Gang.