The car door swung open before it had fully stopped.
The man was already on the ground beside him, and his hands hovered over the blood that was immediate and real and far more than he was prepared for. The victim was young. Far too young. His eyes were half open and unfocused, and his breathing was audible and shallow.
"Oh my God," the man said, pressing two fingers to his neck. A pulse was there—thin, but present. He exhaled hard. "Sir, can you hear me? Sir?" He looked up. "Haiyan! Haiyan, get over here right now. The hospital is right there. Help me get him inside. We need to go now."
Haiyan was already out of the car and moving. Together they lifted Ren Hao off the ground. The man took his shoulders, and Haiyan took his legs. They moved fast back through the hospital doors that had barely closed behind him twenty minutes ago.
