Chapter 573


    As the chaotic gang fight raged on, someone knocked over a barrel of fuel, and his lighter dropped to


    the ground and broke apart.


    A spark ignited a fire, which quickly developed into a raging me that engulfed the factory, and


    choking ck smoke filled the air.


    "Mark, it is going to blow. Get Summer out of here!" Jazz shouted.


    Mark was close to the back door. He carried Summer i n his arms and escaped, while calling the


    hospital with a phone in his hand.


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    Jazz spun around and ran out, but fire and thick ck smoke were about to block the backdoor escape


    route. He suddenly hesitated and then turned back in.


    Ronald sat on the ground, his lower body had caught fire. He was wailing in pain but could not move.


    Jazz pulled Ronald over and brought him out of the factory. There was a look of hurt and mockery on


    his face as Jazz wished he could just leave Ronald to die i n the fire.


    They escaped from the burning abandoned factory. Not long after they emerged, they heard an


    explosion and then a fireball rose into the sky above the factory


    behind them.


    As they got into the car, the driver started the engine and put the pedal to the metal.


    The air in the cabin was frighteningly quiet.


    There had never been a moment like this. It made Jazz feel depressed, suffocated; as if he was going


    to die in the car.


    Summer''s eyes were closed. The blood on her lower body was ring at Mark and also dyed his


    clothes red. But he said not a word.


    Jazz did not dare to bring Ronald into this car, nor did he intend to take him into the car. Ronald was


    the one who caused all this.


    Ronald had brought not only iniquity upon himself but also cmity to his grandchildren. They say


    people get wiser with age, but Ronald apparently did not.


    The father whom Jazz respected since childhood had done everything that should and should not be


    done.


    "Where is the doctor?” Mark''s voice was grave, deep, and shrouded in gloom.


    The coldness of his words sent chills down Jazz’s spine. Jazz gasped and answered, "Already on the


    way.”


    Mark gave a faint acknowledgement as he reached to draw away the hair that dangled over her


    forehead with his trembling hand.


    He knew she was conscious.


    It hurt Jazz to see her paleness, silence, and wound, as if thousands of needles pierced into his heart.


    Summer used to be so cheery, but now she was so deste. Jazz could not bear to see her this way.


    Mark hugged her carefully, keeping himself in the same posture all the time.