"Zhou Luchen."
Calling his name directly again made it difficult for Wenxin to utter those two words. "Help me."
He moved his lips slightly. "Aren't you quite proud?"
Wenxin still couldn't help herself. She stood up, walked over to him, and clutched the hem of his clothes.
They faced each other in silence. Up close, her eyes were dark, bloodshot veins clearly visible from worrying over family matters and her father's illness. In front of the man, she inadvertently presented a kind of shattered, tragically beautiful vulnerability.
"Liver transplantation is the only treatment for end-stage liver disease," Wenxin slowly explained. "An organ is needed for the transplant. Without it, he'll die."
Zhou Luchen's voice was low. "Then get one."
"There's no suitable one from organ donations, none in all the hospitals," Wenxin said, almost whispering.
He said, "If the hospitals don't have one, then so be it."