At this hour, Nan's Hospital was overwhelmed with people in the dead of night.
Nan Zhuoyuan stood solemnly at the entrance of the inpatient building, his gaze fixed in the distance, as if he was waiting for someone.
There were people standing on both sides of the entrance, all holding their breath, quietly waiting.
Suddenly, two blinding headlights appeared in the distance, driving towards them.
Immediately, Nan Zhuoyuan adjusted the tie at his collar and patted down the wrinkles on his clothes to make himself look more presentable.
The next second, the car stopped in front of him.
The closest bodyguard stepped forward and opened the rear door of the car.
First, a pair of black leather shoes touched the ground from the back seat, followed by an old but strong hand clutching a string of prayer beads, resting on the car door.
The man revealed a face etched with wrinkles, mature and seasoned, with a stern look in his eyes, radiating a strong presence and full of authority.
