Guo Weixiang and Ding Shi still had their guns trained on Feng’s people, but Zhou Rong threw down his assault rifle, raising his empty hands, turning to face the civilians, his stern gaze sweeping across every anxious face.
Zhou Rong met his gaze, suddenly feeling an extremely strange sensation, with subconscious fragments flashing through his mind:
“Capture target possesses a potentially antisocial personality, extremely destructive, charged with multiple first-degree murder…”
Zhou Rong shivered extremely subtly.
“Captain Zhou,” suddenly Dr. Zheng hurried forward.
Zhou Rong turned back, seeing Dr. Zheng’s face had changed, his forehead covered in cold sweat, softly saying: “That pregnant woman Wang Wen… was just startled by the gunshots and is going into premature labor…”
“
According to Zhou Rong’s own words, when he was young he feared nothing, would kill gods and buddhas, and was ready to bomb a terrorist’s tank cannon with a grenade in hand.
But he had indeed never seen a woman in difficult childbirth.
Zhou Rong quickly had someone tie up Feng Wentai and those unlucky bodyguards, throwing them into the back of the car, then went upstairs to the dormitory. Everything was chaotic; several older women gathered around the bed, Wang Wen with disheveled hair, making soft moaning sounds.
“Do you need hot water, scissors, and cotton cloth? Should I tell her to push?” Zhou Rong asked Dr. Zheng.
Dr. Zheng said impatiently: “Thirty-two weeks premature, the situation is very dangerous now. Quickly boil water to disinfect gauze, maintain lighting, maintain room temperature… Quick, quick! She’s already having labor pains!”
“…” Zhou Rong embarrassedly said: “I’ve only watched historical dramas.”
Zhou Rong hurriedly asked people to prepare things, boil water for disinfection, and move electric heaters and diesel generators. Dr. Zheng was not a professional obstetrician and was not very smooth with premature birth procedures.”
The women began to offer their own childbirth experiences, encouraging Wang Wen, and even running to the kitchen to temporarily start a fire to prepare hot soup for her postpartum.
All survivors were mobilized. Even the men guarding outside at night were expectant, anxiously discussing, as if this new life about to be born in the winter night symbolized some distant and subtle hope.
“It’s possible, it’s possible!” Dr. Zheng was sweating, using one hand to direct others: “Make it brighter, maintain lighting!”
