Qin Xiaotao, the only one who didn't know or understand a thing, flicked a glass marble. It struck a nearby iron barrel with a DONG, finally breaking the eerie silence.
Mr. Qin frowned. "What kind of surgery costs so much money?"
In those days, one thousand yuan was a significant amount for any family.
After all, there were hardly any families in the village with ten thousand yuan to their name.
Qin Zhonghui silently nodded. "Yes. If I don't get the surgery, this hand will be crippled."
Just then, Qin Jiao took out the paperwork from the hospital. Seeing the thick stack, Mr. Qin fell silent as well.
Qin Jiqun and his wife, Feng Lan, hurried over to look at the documents. Sure enough, they were all for Qin Zhonghui's treatment. They couldn't read much, but they saw the section about the hand injury—it was really that severe!
Especially the part about how, without treatment, it would lead to permanent disability... 'He'll actually become a cripple!'
