C347 Dream cultivation

I opened my eyes. The white tiles reflected the sun.

The corridor was crowded, doctors and nurses in white coats in a hurry.

There were cries and cries in his ears. A middle-aged woman, wrapped in a headscarf and dressed like a tea farmer, was sitting in the corridor outside the emergency room of the hospital.

Her voice was hoarse and she was on the verge of fainting.

Beside her sat a child