Chapter 133 Once a Passionate Youth
After hanging up, Vera looked at him somewhat guiltily. "Good thing you took the phone. Otherwise if your grandma really came and saw this scene, she'd be scared to death."
Alexander glanced at her, not in the mood to talk anymore.
As time passed, his anxiety grew worse. If it was just ordinary injuries, why would she still be in the emergency room after so long?
He looked at his watch—it had been an hour and a half already.
He tried his best to suppress those terrifying thoughts in his mind. Without results, he couldn't scare himself. He had to stay absolutely calm to handle what came next.
But this empty, endless waiting was enough to drive anyone crazy.
Finally, just when he was about to break, the emergency room doors suddenly opened and a nurse came out asking, "Who's Arabella's family?"
Alexander and Vera almost simultaneously rushed forward, saying in unison, "I am!"
Alexander glanced at his mother, and Vera touched her nose and stepped behind him.
She blamed herself for being too nervous—as soon as the nurse asked, she'd rushed forward.
Alexander asked the nurse with slight tension, "How is she?"
The nurse said, "Broken right leg, puncture wound on her left shoulder. We just finished bandaging the wound. She's not awake yet. Since you're here, follow us to the room. We had several serious injuries come in today and we're really short-staffed."
Alexander was stunned, then realized what had happened. Arabella's injuries weren't that serious—she'd been in there so long because the medical staff had prioritized treating those who were more severely injured.
He couldn't demand special treatment at a time like this, especially since compared to others, Arabella's injuries were relatively minor.
He just nodded at the nurse. "Can you arrange a private room?"
The nurse had been working in the emergency room for over an hour with barely a moment's rest. Even so, two people had died despite their efforts. Even though she was used to life and death, she wasn't in a good mood and said impatiently, "Yes, go downstairs to the inpatient department and figure it out. I'm busy and don't have time to handle that for you."
The hospital director, who had been standing at a distance not daring to approach, finally stepped forward. Seeing the little nurse dare to speak to Alexander like that, he immediately scolded her harshly, "Busy with what? Do you know who you're talking to? Hurry up and..."
"Dr. Langford," Alexander interrupted, looking him in the eye as he reminded him, "Medical staff's duty is to heal and save lives."
Victor Langford's words got stuck in his throat. Was Alexander criticizing him for being discourteous? But he'd rushed over as soon as he got news that Alexander was at the hospital. Knowing that Alexander's person was injured, he'd been so scared his legs went weak. He'd urgently called in the hospital's best surgeons, intending to show his face, but as soon as he approached, before he could even speak, Alexander had told him to get lost...
He felt wronged too. He'd been cowering in a corner for almost two hours, finally finding a chance to speak with Alexander, but Alexander seemed to be protecting that little nurse.
The nurse's heart was tied up with the patients in the emergency room. Although the director's scolding made her realize this man had an extraordinary status, in the face of life and death, all people were equal. She just nodded and hurried back inside.
The director was still trying to figure out what Alexander meant when he heard Alexander say flatly, "Dr. Langford, it's not easy for medical staff to stick to their posts. As a manager, don't discourage your people."
Victor was stunned.
Alexander wasn't in the mood to say more. After making his point, he strode away.
Vera followed closely behind.
Victor stood there dazed for a while before realizing that Alexander had gone downstairs. He'd actually made Alexander personally go downstairs to handle the room transfer procedures?
He hadn't had many dealings with Mr. FitzRoy. The earliest was when Alexander suddenly bought this hospital, and he, as the hospital's top administrator, had met with him once. After that, there was the incident with that paralyzed patient named Percy, but he hadn't had a chance to speak with Alexander then either.
And now this was the third time.
He'd originally thought that someone in Alexander's high position bought a hospital simply to enjoy medical privileges, so he'd been nervous every time Alexander appeared, afraid of not performing well and being removed from his position.
He never expected Alexander to tell him that medical staff had it tough.
Did he not know how tough medical staff had it? If being a doctor was so easy, why would he have switched to management back then?
His assistant saw him standing there silently for a long time and carefully approached to remind him, "Dr. Langford?"
Victor suddenly snapped back from his memories.
He looked at his young assistant, his conviction wavering, and after a long moment asked, "Mike, why did you choose to study medicine originally?"
The person called Mike was a young man just over thirty who'd only started his internship this year and hadn't graduated with his doctorate yet.
Hearing the director's question, he stood tall and proud. "Because I wanted to heal the sick and save lives."
"Heal the sick and save lives..." Victor's eyes seemed to glisten with tears, but his face carried a smile. "Heal the sick and save lives—that's good, that's a noble thing."
Once, he too had been a passionate young man with the highest ideals, wanting to heal the sick and save lives.
Being a doctor was exhausting, but he was willing to be tired. When patients lined up until two hours past closing time, he'd still insist on seeing them all. Back then, he never seemed to remember when he'd last had a proper meal, but seeing the gratitude and appreciation on patients' faces filled him with satisfaction.
But he could never forget what happened during a treatment three years ago.
That night he was on duty. A young doctor from his department wasn't scheduled to work, but there was a patient who'd just been admitted whose vital signs weren't stable, so the young doctor stayed worried until late at night.
Only after the patient's data stabilized did the young doctor prepare to leave.
Unexpectedly, just then an ambulance brought in several people seriously injured in a car accident. He and the young doctor both rushed to help with the rescue. The accident was severe—a large truck had lost control and hit a car with a family of three. The woman died on the spot.
The truck driver wasn't seriously injured and was about to be saved when suddenly a man with a knife burst in, cursing at the young doctor who was suturing the driver. The young doctor was completely unprepared and got stabbed in the heart.
At the moment he was stabbed, the young doctor was still steadily holding the suturing needle. Because he needed to stabilize the patient under his hands, he couldn't even fight back with both hands occupied. He just looked with shock and terror as that knife pierced his body.
Blood gushed out, the emergency room became even more chaotic. The young doctor was rushed into surgery, and soon the chief came out with a heavy expression, saying they couldn't save him.
Victor still remembered his feelings at that time.
The people he wanted to save had turned around and stabbed his colleague. He suddenly felt that all ideals and beliefs were a joke.
The accident investigation quickly produced results. It turned out the killer's wife had breast cancer and was being treated at this hospital. This was a recurrence—she'd first been diagnosed five years ago, and the mastectomy had been performed by the young doctor who was killed.
This time it had recurred with metastasis. There was no chance of survival.
The killer blamed the young doctor, believing his poor surgery had caused his wife's cancer to spread, so in his rage, he took revenge with a knife.
The killer was quickly arrested, the dead doctor was posthumously awarded many honorary titles, and everything seemed to be over.
But Victor found he could no longer face his patients.
He no longer stayed in his office without complaint, no longer spoke heart-to-heart with patients without reservation, and no longer put himself in their shoes to earnestly advise them for their own good.
Even during surgery, that young doctor's face would flash through his mind.
He knew the doctor had just turned forty and was the most experienced breast cancer doctor in all of Majestic City. His wife was a nurse, they'd just gotten married not long ago, and they had a two-year-old daughter.
He'd been so dedicated, so devoted to his duty. If he'd been a little more selfish and hadn't stayed that extra night for a newly admitted patient, he wouldn't have encountered all this.
But he'd given everything, only to be killed by a patient's family member.
For a doctor, that was the collapse of faith, the destruction of ideals.
Victor couldn't get past that mental barrier. His hands could no longer hold a scalpel.
So he applied to the hospital to transfer to management and never touched a scalpel again.
Later, when Mr. FitzRoy bought the hospital and the former director was poached away, he naturally became the director.
The young assistant didn't understand the pain behind this and asked curiously, "Dr. Langford, are you okay?"
Why was he suddenly crying?
Victor waved his hand, choking up. "I'm fine."
He left with shaking steps.
Alexander finished the room transfer procedures and returned upstairs. Arabella had just been moved to a hospital bed by the nurses. Her injuries weren't serious—her fractured leg was in a cast, and her punctured shoulder was simply sutured and bandaged.
Vera sat by her bed, wiping tears with heartbreak. She wanted to touch her but didn't dare, asking carefully, "Does it hurt?"
Arabella was awake, her face somewhat pale, but she was very patient with Vera, comforting her, "It's fine, it doesn't hurt."
"Like hell it doesn't hurt," Vera said tearfully. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't asked you to meet, you wouldn't have encountered this. I'm so bad—I almost got you killed."
Arabella didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "How could this be your fault? It was just bad timing. You didn't deliberately harm me."
Vera was about to burst into tears when Alexander grabbed her. "Mom, Arabella needs rest. Go home."
Vera's tears caught in her throat. "I want to stay here with her."
Alexander refused. "She needs rest. You talk too much."
"Then I won't talk."
"I don't believe you." Alexander was blunt, looking at her with his brow already furrowing with impatience. "If you really feel guilty, go home and make some light, nourishing food and bring it tonight."
Vera had to leave reluctantly.
Arabella laughed. "Why are you being so harsh with her? I think it's nice having her here."
Alexander saw the weak but forced smile on her face and felt heartbroken. "If she's here, you'll waste energy trying to comfort her."
He sat down beside her, took her hand, his low voice almost drowning her in tenderness. "Were you scared today?"
Arabella was startled and instinctively looked at their joined hands.
Alexander's back tensed slightly, but he didn't let go.
Arabella hesitated for only a second before her logic kicked in: he was such a good person, of course he'd be worried knowing she was in a car accident. He was like a gay bestie—if Philip were here, he'd probably be crying in her arms.
Thinking this way, that strange feeling in Arabella's heart dissipated. Thinking of Philip reminded her of what Miley had told her earlier, and she quickly said, "Can you contact Philip? The Reed family's funding chain is broken. If Philip doesn't get engaged to Gloria, the Reed family will be saddled with huge debts. I think we should tell him about this and let him decide what to do."
"Okay, I understand," Alexander's voice remained gentle as he patted her arm lightly, steady and calm. "Don't worry about these things. I'll handle it."
Arabella nodded, relieved.
Her eyelids felt heavy. She wanted to force herself to stay alert and say a few more words, but Alexander said softly, "Sleep. I'll be right here watching over you."
Arabella unknowingly drifted off to sleep.
After she fell asleep, Alexander took out his phone, walked to the window, and made a call.
"Inject capital into Reed Group. Not too much—just enough to solve their immediate crisis."
Roy, who was on the other end tracking down the hit-and-run driver, was stunned. After a long moment, he asked, "Is this the Reed from Ms. Bourbon's friend's family?"
Hearing Mr. FitzRoy's confirmation, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was so smart—he'd guessed right.
After all, with Mr. FitzRoy's status, there was really no need to be interested in such a small company.
It had to be because of Ms. Bourbon...
An hour later, the Reed family received foreign investment—a full billion, just enough to fill the loan gap.
Philip's father Peter was stunned when he got the call and quickly called Miley over. "What the hell is going on?"
Miley was also confused. "Have we dealt with this investment company before?"
"Are you crazy? This is the Jadewood Group! They're massive—how could a company like ours possibly have access to them? Let me put it this way—the Reeves family and Tucker family are pretty powerful, right? They can't even get near the Jadewood Group!"
Miley's eyes rolled. "Maybe they see potential in our company..."
Peter looked at her with disdain. "Don't you know what state our company is in? Don't they do due diligence before investing?"
"Then what the hell is going on?" Miley was completely lost.
Peter was also baffled and finally gave up. "Whatever, it's good news anyway. With this money, if our son doesn't show up, then he doesn't show up. I didn't want him to marry that Reeves girl anyway."
Miley felt the same way. If Gloria had been pure and innocent, it would've been the Reed family marrying up to the Reeves family. But with Gloria's reputation so tarnished, she didn't want a daughter-in-law like that either. How could she hold her head up?
Before, they'd had no choice. Now with the capital injection, she didn't care about the Reeves family anymore.