The Lovely Heiress Is Actually A God Beast

Chapter 83: Chapter 83 A Soothing Program

The woman saw her husband’s hysterical appearance and suddenly calmed down, a surprising calmness. She reached out, snatched back the contract, and signed her name on it.

“No! I won’t sign!” the little girl’s father roared, hysterical, his strength gradually failing as he held his head and wept bitterly, “Why insist on donating it, why…”

The woman squatted down, reached out, and embraced the collapsing man, speaking softly and slowly, “Our daughter said she wants to become a doctor someday, and she wants to save many, many people. When we used to watch TV programs, she saw those doctors voluntarily signing contracts to donate their bodies after death, and she told me she wanted to do the same in the future.”

“I didn’t agree at the time, I was even surprised; she was just a child, how could she have such thoughts? There’s so much time ahead of her, whether she can become a doctor is still unknown, let alone thinking about donating her body after death!”

Under the woman’s gentle and tender voice, the man gradually calmed down. He slowly lifted his head to look at the woman and asked, “This… is it her wish?”

“Yes, it is her wish. When I opposed it, she stood in front of me, like a little adult scolding me, saying my thinking was feudal. She said donating her body could save many people, could let those who are blind see the light again, let burn victims no longer feel inferior…”

...

The man shook his head incredulously, “Impossible, she’s just a child, how could she say such things? Even adults wouldn’t say such things! You’re lying to me, tricking me!”

“I’m not lying to you, these were our daughter’s own words. Do you remember the school performance from back then?”

The man recalled, “Our daughter was playing a doctor?”

“Yes! A doctor who rushed to the front lines of the epidemic, tirelessly treating patients day and night, until she had a sudden cardiac arrest and was worked to death. But she died with a smile, and ultimately donated her body,” the woman said.

She lowered her head and found the video on her phone; it was the performance she had recorded. The man left in the middle because of an urgent call from work and didn’t see it through.

In the video, three little girls were performing a play about fighting the epidemic: one as a patient, one as a doctor, one as the doctor’s family member.

Watching the video of his daughter, the man was in tears.

After a long time and a sad piece of music, the man signed the consent form for the donation.

Time flew by in a blur, with aerial shots of traffic on the roads, day and night alternating, an unknown duration passing before the scene settled on a hospital.

In the hospital, a little girl was unwrapping the bandages around her eyes, round by round, in slow motion. When the bandages were completely removed, the focus shifted to the girl’s eyes.

Her thick, curly eyelashes quivered, someone beside her offering encouragement. Her eyelashes began to tremble more violently, and at last, she slowly opened her eyes.

They were like the clear and bright eyes of a washed fawn.

But the scene abruptly shifted to a graveyard. Today was the little girl’s memorial day, and her parents stood in front of her tombstone, her father gently wiping the photo on it.

As the white cloth wiped over the photo, a close-up shot froze on those eyes, equally clean and bright.

The short video ended, and during that time, the room was very quiet, no one spoke.

Once the video had finished completely, Bald Senior Brother let out a breath, “It was so well shot, and the acting from the three little girls was very good.”

Comb Senior Brother, who had stopped combing his hair at some point, let out a long breath, then furrowed his brows, “Can Little Taotie’s video be better than theirs?”