So, Mo Siluo followed Wen Wan into the operating room. He thought he had a strong psychological capacity to withstand stress, but when the doctor asked him to sign the consent form for the surgery, he found his hands shaking uncontrollably. There were certain risks associated with the procedure, and even though they were small, they were enough to unnerve anyone.
Lying on the operating table, Wen Wan looked up at the surgery light and suddenly mustered up courage. She knew about the risks of surgery and couldn't predict the future; she did not know if she could... She did not want to leave any regrets, so she held the man's hand, smiled at him, and said, "Siluo, I still owe you two sentences. Come closer."
Siluo knew those might be the words he had been waiting for, but right now he had no desire to hear them. He gently patted her hand to comfort her, "I don't want to hear them now. Tell me after the surgery."
"But what if..." Wen Wan murmured.
