It’s a pity that the man’s gaze only falls on the woman in the hospital bed.

And the middle-aged man next to him says to the nurse, "You can leave now."

"Yes." The nurse responds, leaving with a bit of regret, unable to fathom why this man would care about a pregnant woman. From her care over the past days, she knew the child in this woman’s belly probably wasn’t his.

At this moment in the ward, Atlas Shaw looks at the woman on the bed and suddenly asks the person beside him, "Why do people have such a strong desire to live?"

"It’s probably human survival instinct." Uncle Shen replies.

Atlas’s thin lips curve upward lazily, "Such a strong survival instinct is really different from mine..." He vividly recalls that day when she was hauled onto his yacht. He was standing on the deck, gazing out at the sea to pass the time, and when she was brought aboard by Uncle Shen and the others, she ended up lying not far from his feet.

He only glanced at her indifferently then—whether she was dead or alive, he wasn’t interested.

He can’t remember when he lost interest in everything around him, not even his own life, and was just living aimlessly, lazily waiting for death.

He watched absentmindedly as people on the boat administered artificial respiration to this half-dead woman, watching as she coughed up water, and the surrounding people reacting with delighted expressions.

Alive, huh? He thought. But this woman looked so weak, she probably wouldn’t hold on for long.

If she died, it might be better, since being alive is quite a boring affair.

Yet, just as he was about to step past her lying form, the woman, even after coughing up water and still half-dead, suddenly reached out and grabbed his ankle tightly.

No one can understand how a dying woman could act so swiftly, gripping his ankle with such strength.

This seemed impossible for someone between life and death to do, yet she did it.

In his moment of surprise, his gaze finally landed earnestly on the woman’s face. By then, her eyes were open, those almond-shaped eyes contrasting sharply with her skin as pale as paper, making them appear even darker. Her equally pale lips trembled as she uttered words intermittently, "Help me... I beg you... No matter what... save me... I... I’m not ready to die..."

Her eyes seemed to be looking at him, yet her focus was dispersed, but the will to survive emanating from them was like nothing he had ever seen.

Her fingers gripping his ankle tightly resembled a desperate clutch onto the last straw, refusing to let go no matter what.

Even when she fell unconscious again, her fingers were still clamped tightly around his ankle, preventing him from breaking free for a moment.

In that instant, he looked almost lost at her unconscious form, unable to understand why, but undeniably, she had shaken him.

"Master." It wasn’t until Uncle Shen spoke that he sharply came back to his senses.

Then Uncle Shen asked if he wanted to pry the woman’s hand off, and he replied, "I’ll do it myself."