night."
The cryptic warning did nothing to ease Jin Chengyu's anxiety as they pushed through the doors into the ICU proper.
The corridor beyond was pristine now—floors cleaned to a shine, walls scrubbed, every surface gleaming. But Jin Chengyu, who had dealt with enough business violence in his time, could read the signs. The too-clean floors. The faint discoloration on the walls that suggested something had been scrubbed away. The way the medical staff avoided looking directly at anything, their faces pale and drawn.
Something terrible had happened here. Recently.
Jin Boyuan emerged from a side room, and Jin Zixuan immediately rushed to him. "Brother! Are you alright? What happened? Where's Zhou Yuxi? Is Mu Yunchen—"
"Stop," Jin Boyuan said quietly, his voice hoarse. He looked like he'd aged ten years overnight, his eyes haunted. "Just... stop asking questions. Please. I can't—I don't even know how to explain what—"
He broke off, his hands shaking.
