"Someone get help!" Xia Lihua shouted, panic creeping into her voice. "Something's wrong with him—call the medics!"
The production crew rushed in. The cameramen were no longer focused on dramatic dinner shots but now capturing the unfolding emergency. One of the staff members was already radioing the medical team.
Tang Mingze stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. Xia Liyan's eyes widened in alarm—but her expression was unreadable.
Yang Lingyun fell to his knees, still retching, his hand pressed over his chest.
"Stay with me," Xia Lihua said, crouching next to him, her voice trembling but firm as she tried to keep him conscious. "You're going to be okay. Just hold on."
She placed two fingers against the side of his neck, checking his pulse—it was erratic. Then she pressed her fingers to his jaw, making him open his mouth slightly.
In her mind, everything was racing—symptoms, signs, the timeline. That metallic odor on his breath, the way his pupils were dilated.
