Around six in the evening, while in the middle of surgery, Yan Feifan noticed a figure wavering in his peripheral vision.
He looked up. It was Wang Chuan, who had left the operating room more than two hours ago, now back again.
Yan Feifan noticed the deep worry etched on Wang Chuan's face and couldn't help but ask, "Is Mr. Tang's condition that bad?"
"Bad doesn't even begin to cover it. It's a complete disaster!"
Wang Chuan replied with a sigh, then explained, "His face was corroded by concentrated sulfuric acid. You could say his condition is even worse than Yanyan's."
"From below the right cheekbone down to his chin, most of the muscle was severely carbonized. I had no choice but to cut it away."
"I also had to remove the right side of his nose and the tip."
"There are also scattered acid burns on his neck, scalp, and other areas of his face."
"His right palm was also severely burned."
"The only saving grace is that his eyes were unharmed."
