The next day.
Just like any other day, Ai Shengbing listlessly drank his medicine.
Then he lay back down, waiting for the inevitable end.
However, that afternoon, as Wang Xiufang prepared to drain the fluid from Ai Shengbing's chest, her hands suddenly froze.
It was a small task she performed every day: removing the drainage bag connected to the catheter in Ai Shengbing's chest and emptying the accumulated fluid.
Each time, the mixture of blood and fluid she poured out would nearly fill more than half the drainage bag.
But today, when she opened the valve, she noticed the mixture of blood and fluid in the bag was significantly less than before.
She rubbed her eyes in surprise, thinking she must have been mistaken.
She checked again and again. The fluid in the drainage bag was indeed about a quarter less than usual.
"How could this be..."
she murmured to herself, her heart a mix of shock and apprehension.
