"Get some good rest. Don't think too much—it's what you deserve."
Wen Yan chatted with Zhang Laoxi for a bit, and soon saw that Zhang Laoxi was drifting off to sleep. Watching him doze off, Wen Yan finally turned and left.
Along the way, he strolled over to the hospice care ward to have a look. There were quite a few unfamiliar faces here, and when Wen Yan walked in, some people didn't recognize him at all.
The little girl by the entrance was especially stubborn, insisting Wen Yan sign in and note which patient he was visiting.
Helpless, Wen Yan just wrote down Gauss Weil.
After entering, he stopped at the doorway of a patient's room and saw Gauss in a long black robe today, his face grave and saintly, both hands holding a patient's hand, softly murmuring words of comfort—getting more and more professional at it.
"The Lord will forgive you. You must learn to let go, to relax, and embrace the Lord's arms."
Wen Yan's eyelids jumped wildly. This guy…
