At the time, nothing could be detected during the examination. The only possibility was that it was a lingering effect of the previous arm injury.
But now, Sheng Xinhao had come to the hospital because, some time ago, he suddenly noticed a decline in the sensory function of his left arm. His ability to perceive touch, pain, and temperature had diminished, even to the point of numbness.
This realization immediately alarmed Sheng Xinhao.
Without delay, he went to the hospital for an examination, and this time, they finally identified the cause.
Given Sheng Xinhao’s status and position, the moment he arrived, the hospital director personally led a team to conduct his examination. Now, it was Director Wu who was in charge of his case.
“…The symptoms you previously experienced in your left arm completely match this condition.”
“Director Wu, since we know the cause now, please prescribe medication and start treatment right away,” Fang Wanrong urged anxiously, her face full of concern.
Director Wu looked at Sheng Xinhao but hesitated to speak.
Sheng Xinhao frowned. “Director Wu, whatever the situation is, just say it directly.”
Finally, Director Wu said, “Although we’ve identified the issue, for your condition, after discussion, we currently have two treatment options: surgical intervention or acupuncture therapy.”
“For surgical treatment, because this operation involves numerous nerves and blood vessels in the arm, it places extremely high demands on the surgeon’s skills, especially given your current condition.”
“Moreover, performing this surgery requires specialized medical equipment and auxiliary diagnostic tools. Abroad, this wouldn’t be a problem, but domestically, our resources in these areas are relatively limited.”
“Therefore, the success rate would also be correspondingly lower.”
“From what I’ve heard, there was only one person capable of performing this surgery, but he has already passed away.”
Director Wu mentioned a name, and Sheng Xinhao recalled that person—someone who had studied abroad but had died a few years prior.
“Then… what should we do? Director Wu, can’t you do anything about it?” Fang Wanrong’s eyes were slightly red.
“Director Wu, you mentioned acupuncture earlier?” Sheng Xinhao asked.
“Yes, acupuncture can also effectively treat this condition, and comparatively, the risks would be lower. However, unless it’s performed by a true master of acupuncture, it’s impossible.”
“And currently, not a single one can be found.”
Sheng Xinhao pressed his lips together and, after a long pause, asked, “What if we choose conservative treatment?”
“Conservative treatment would only provide temporary relief.”
“Afterward, your arm may atrophy. Your upper limb could completely lose neural control, rendering you unable to perform related movements and robbing you of motor function.”
Sheng Xinhao: In other words, his hand might become useless.
“Of course, that’s the mildest scenario. What’s more concerning is that it might not only affect the arm but also other parts of the body. There’s even a possibility of complications like lung infections.”
In other words, there was still a certain degree of life-threatening risk.
Hearing this, everyone present looked grim.
When it came to his own life, Sheng Xinhao naturally wanted to remain unharmed.
As for Fang Wanrong, she now relied entirely on Sheng Xinhao. Their son was still young and hadn’t grown up yet—he still needed his father’s support. So, Fang Wanrong also didn’t want anything to happen to Sheng Xinhao.
Fang Manping, too, had only reached her current status because of her identity as Sheng Xinhao’s stepdaughter.
Of course, she didn’t want Sheng Xinhao to die.
Moreover, she had been fixated on Li Tingxuan. If Sheng Xinhao were still around, the Li family might—just might—consider her out of respect for her stepfather. But if Sheng Xinhao were gone, she wouldn’t stand a chance at all.
“Old Sheng, what should we do now?” After Director Wu finished speaking and left, Fang Wanrong sat beside Sheng Xinhao, her eyes reddening.
“Enough. I need some peace. You all go out first,” Sheng Xinhao said irritably.
Fang Wanrong: “…”
In the end, Fang Wanrong still left the ward with Fang Manping and their son.
Watching their retreating figures, Sheng Xinhao couldn’t help but think of Sheng Zexi—that defiant brat.
That kid used to come home once a year, but now, he didn’t even return for the New Year.
Even when he did come back, he stayed at the Sang family’s place.
That ungrateful little bastard would probably be overjoyed if he knew about his condition.
But what was wrong with being strict? What was wrong with a father disciplining his son?
Even though he had a younger son, most of his assets would still go to his eldest son in the future.
He had worked tirelessly to plan for his future—what was wrong with that?
Yet that kid kept defying him at every turn.
Sheng Xinhao suddenly remembered that in just over half a month, it would be the anniversary of Sang Yuwan’s death.
“That kid will probably come back then.” He’d have to find a time to meet him.
In the end, after two more days in the hospital, Sheng Xinhao was discharged.
For now, Sheng Xinhao opted for conservative treatment while the hospital continued searching for a surgeon capable of performing the delicate operation. As for finding a master of acupuncture—that seemed even more difficult than locating a skilled surgeon.
…
Time flew by, and soon it was April. Sheng Zexi, who had taken leave, boarded a train to the capital with Gu Jianing.
Given the distance, driving wasn’t feasible, so the train was their only option. However, Gu Jianing was now five months pregnant—and with twins—so her belly was noticeably round. Sheng Zexi couldn’t help but feel nervous just looking at it.
Trains were crowded and chaotic at the best of times, and with Gu Jianing’s condition, Sheng Zexi was extra cautious. Days in advance, he pulled some strings to secure sleeper tickets, which were far more comfortable than hard seats.
Still, boarding the train was a struggle. The platform was packed, and people jostled against each other. Sheng Zexi’s brows furrowed as he shielded Gu Jianing, using his strength and height to clear a path.
Those who felt someone pushing past initially scowled, ready to snap—until they looked up and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in military uniform, his sharp, unyielding gaze making it clear he wasn’t someone to mess with.
Better to back off.
Noticing the pregnant woman he was protecting—though she wore a hat and scarf, her belly was unmistakable—most people understood and stepped aside.
Thanks to Sheng Zexi’s efforts, Gu Jianing had a relatively smooth boarding experience.
Having ridden the train before, she knew how unpleasant the smells could be. Now that she was pregnant, her sensitivity to odors had heightened. Fortunately, she had exchanged some points in the system’s store for a special item—a small device that filtered out the train’s unpleasant scents, replacing them with a light citrus fragrance only she could smell. It also helped with motion sickness.
As a result, instead of the usual train odors, all Gu Jianing smelled was fresh orange. She felt much better than expected.
Soon, Sheng Zexi guided her to their assigned sleeper berth—once again, upper and lower bunks.
This journey wouldn’t be as long as their previous one—just about 30 hours, or a day and a half. Compared to the two full days they’d spent traveling from their hometown to the Northwest Military District, this was a vast improvement.
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