That day would become the most harrowing of my life.
By noon, the restaurant was packed with diners, and the kitchen buzzed with a frenzy—pans clanging, oil spitting, orders shouted back and forth. The landlady answered a call, her face draining of color in an instant. She hurried in small steps toward the back, yelling at the top of her lungs: "Xiao Huang! Xiao Huang!"
I was flipping a wok, hot oil spattering my arm, when I glanced up. "What's wrong, Boss Lady?"
She grabbed my arm, her hand trembling. "Your father - in - law's office called! They said your wife had an accident on her way to the prenatal checkup—she's in the hospital, being rescued. He says you need to rush to the second floor of the city hospital, now!"
My grip slackened. The spatula clanged onto the stove. I tore off my apron and bolted out the door. Hailing a taxi, I leaned forward in the backseat, urging the driver faster, but a sick dread coiled in my gut—even if I got there, I feared it might already be too late.
And when I reached the second floor of the hospital, that dread sharpened. There was my father - in - law, pacing back and forth outside the operating room, his back soaked with sweat. I caught up to him, grabbing his arm. "Dad, what's happening?"
He shook his head, his voice rasping like sandpaper. "I just got the call from the hospital… I don't know the details either."
As we spoke, the operating room door creaked open, and a nurse dashed out. I reached to stop her, but she didn't even glance back. "Don't block me!" she tossed over her shoulder. "The patient's in critical condition—every second counts!" A few minutes later, she returned with a doctor, who strode straight in.
Half an hour passed, then the door opened again. This time, the nurse ran faster, soon reappearing with another doctor. I stamped my foot in agitation. My father - in - law clutched his chest, his voice quivering: "When my blood pressure spiked and my blood vessel burst, they never called this many doctors… what the hell is going on in there?"
His words felt like a needle, piercing my already frayed nerves. I seized a nurse lingering nearby, my voice cracking. "My wife's in there—can't I go in? On TV, husbands are always with their wives when they give birth!"
The nurse looked at me, her tone heavy as stone. "TV shows births. In there? This isn't a birth. It's a fight for her life."
Her words dumped a bucket of ice over my head. Half my heart went cold. Li Fang had said she wouldn't go for the checkup today. How, in just a few hours, had she ended up in a抢救 room? What had happened?
My father - in - law and I stood rooted in the corridor, waiting until the sky outside had fully darkened, as black as ink - soaked cloth.
Then the door opened. A doctor stepped out, his brow furrowed, and looked at us. "Are you the patient's family?"
We both nodded. "I'm her father," my father - in - law said. "I'm her husband," I added.
The doctor pulled a consent form from his white coat, his finger pausing on the paper. "The mother is seven months pregnant. She'd had a previous dilation and curettage procedure. This fall caused massive bleeding, triggering a premature birth. The mother's condition is critical—we may not be able to save her. We're doing everything to save the baby. One of you needs to sign this."
"I won't sign!" I blurted. My father - in - law refused too, his face flushing red as he pointed at the doctor, shouting. "What do you mean 'may not save her'? How did it get this bad?"
The doctor sighed. "Her previous procedure didn't look like it was done at a proper hospital. Her uterine wall is extremely thin. It's very dangerous."
At that, my father - in - law's face turned ashen. His lips trembled, and he couldn't get the words out. "I… I…"
My mind was a jumble, but there was no time to dwell. I turned to the doctor, my voice tight. "If I sign, are you giving up on her?"
"We won't give up," the doctor said, meeting my gaze. "We'll fight for her as long as there's hope."
I nodded fiercely, fumbling to pull the money from my pocket and thrust it into his hand. "Then please—save her first. Please, prioritize her…" My palms were sweating, soaking the bills. "Take this. Please, do whatever you can."
The doctor took the money, clutched the consent form, and stepped back into the operating room. The moment the door clicked shut, all the strength drained from my body, and I slid down against the wall.