Chapter 74

The Hospital

The arrival of the police threw the Chen household into chaos.

As one of the capital's major taxpayers, the Chen family had enjoyed considerable standing for years. Being suddenly placed under arrest was something Master Chen simply could not accept.

Was it the ritual's failure and its blowback? Or had Chao Musheng forcing his way into the building disrupted Chen Garden's feng shui?

He was old, and the charges were serious. The officers put handcuffs on him but left off the leg irons.

Inside the police vehicle, he found Master Xuan sitting there already — apparently arrested in his bedroom, hair and beard in disarray, pajama buttons misaligned, one bare foot and one sock. The image of the mysterious sage was nowhere to be found.

Master Xuan felt Master Chen's gaze land on him and looked away out the window.

If he'd known the Chen family would fall this quickly, he'd have found a richer patron to defraud.

With the two ringleaders taken away, the others implicated in Chen Garden's activities were also called in for questioning.

The steward shuffled toward the police van in handcuffs, and noticed that Xiao He had not only not been taken in — he was huddled with several officers in quiet conversation. The steward couldn't help staring.

The stare was too obvious to ignore. Xiao He noticed, turned to find the steward's eyes fixed on him, and reached into the police car to pull out his cap and put it on his head.

Sorry. He was a proud officer of the People's Police.

The steward's eyes went wide with disbelief. The abusive father, the weak mother, the rebellious little brother — all fabricated.

This kid was a cop!

"Stop showing off." The unit leader smacked Xiao He on the back. "If Mr. Chao hadn't stalled them and drawn the Chen family's attention away, you'd have been found out long before this."

He walked Xiao He over to Chao Musheng, and noticed the flush on Chao Musheng's face — something clearly wrong. He swallowed the thanks he'd prepared. "Mr. Chao — are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Chao Musheng felt entirely lucid — not dizzy, not particularly uncomfortable anywhere. Temperature was just a little high.

"Let me call an ambulance—"

"There's no need." Chao Musheng smiled at Xiao He and the unit leader. "It's only a slight fever. Don't waste the medical resources."

He glanced at the other officers moving purposefully around them. "You should get back to it — I have friends here with me."

"Mr. Chao, please rest — we'll come pay our proper respects another time." The unit leader noticed the concern on Mr. Xu's face and recognized this was not the moment for lengthy conversation. He and Xiao He both offered their thanks again and hurried back to help process the scene.

Out on the driveway, the police vehicles were lined up end to end — Xu Chenzhu's car couldn't get through. He took Chao Musheng's arm to steady him, holding carefully: not too firm in case of pain, not too loose in case he stumbled.

Watching Xu Chenzhu handle him as though he were made of something fragile, Chao Musheng couldn't help laughing. "Mr. Xu, I really am fine."

Xu Chenzhu looked at him without answering, and reached up again to check his forehead. "You're hot enough to fry an egg on, and you're fine?"

"I feel perfectly sharp." Chao Musheng exhaled through his nose. "If it were winter, this would almost be cozy."

Secretary Liu quietly took several steps back.

Xiao Chao — please, fewer words. Can you not see the tenderness in the boss's eyes is about to become a physical substance?

Unfortunately, Chao Musheng showed no signs of speaking less. If anything, he was chattier than usual.

"The last day of first-year finals, I had a fever of 39 degrees, finished the exam, slept it off, and was fine." He smiled. "So please don't worry, Mr. Xu."

"Right." Xu Chenzhu said it, and kept hold of his arm.

"Mr. Xu." A bodyguard jogged over and handed Xu Chenzhu a forehead thermometer.

He aimed it at Chao Musheng: "38.4."

"Under 38.5 is technically only a low-grade fever." Chao Musheng walked toward the side of the drive, looking at the long row of flashing police lights, and paused.

"What are you looking at?" Xu Chenzhu asked.

"People."

Xu Chenzhu looked at him. "Seeing someone sacrifice their own blood kin for the sake of their own desires — are you disillusioned?"

"Yes and no." Chao Musheng shook his head slowly. "I also saw someone give up the choice that was best for themselves in order to save someone they love."

Chen Yue was not among the accused, but as someone who had known what was happening in Chen Garden, she was required to go in for questioning.

Before getting into the vehicle, she turned and looked back — and found Chao Musheng standing beside the road.

She smiled. "Thank you."

"She's thanking you?" Secretary Liu read her lips.

"She's decent in a way that's rare in that family. Honestly, letting Chen Fang go through with it, then using his death to drive a wedge between Chen You and the old man — that would have served her interests far better." For a member of the Chen family, Secretary Liu's expression toward Chen Yue was unusually warm. "Now that the old man and the two uncles are all implicated, who knows which of the three grandchildren ends up with the family assets."

"Master Chen also has a daughter. The outcome's not certain at all." Chao Musheng pressed two fingers to the side of his nose, which had gone warm. "Let's go back."

Whatever happened with someone else's inheritance, they could worry about it themselves. He wanted medicine and sleep.

"Careful." Xu Chenzhu had one hand on his arm and now wrapped the other around his wrist. "There's a step."

"Mr. Xu — your hand is so cold." Chao Musheng put his free hand over the back of Xu Chenzhu's and held it for a moment. "Now I really want ice cream."

The tips of Xu Chenzhu's ears went immediately, completely scarlet. "Once your cold is better."

"Mm." Chao Musheng's eyes drifted lower. The energy he'd had a moment ago drained away — he yawned and quickened his pace.

Chen Fang's mother was waiting outside the guest building in her wheelchair. When she saw Xu Chenzhu's party returning, she said: "Mr. Xu — I'm sorry for the poor hospitality."

She looked toward Chao Musheng: eyes half-open, listing slightly against Xu Chenzhu's side, the picture of someone entirely spent. "I hear Mr. Chao isn't well. I've called our family physician — please let him take a look."

"Thank you, but my own medical team is on the way." Xu Chenzhu steadied Chao Musheng's waist. "Zhaozhao — watch the threshold."

Chao Musheng summoned the effort to open his eyes properly and offered the woman in the wheelchair a smile. "Hello, Auntie."

"Hello." She read Xu Chenzhu's reluctance to trust the Chen family's doctor without any defensive comment, and let her attendant wheel her back inside.

Kunlun's medical team arrived quickly and brought Chao Musheng's temperature down.

"Does he need to go to hospital?" Xu Chenzhu wiped Chao Musheng's palms with a warm cloth.

"Mr. Xu — Mr. Chao has already taken the fever reducer, and we can monitor through the night." The doctor removed his gloves. "Even a private room at a hospital won't be as comfortable as resting here."

"His temperature is still above 38." Xu Chenzhu switched hands and kept wiping.

"Mr. Xu, the medication was given less than twenty minutes ago." A small smile. "I understand your concern — this type of fever reducer typically takes around thirty minutes to begin working, with peak blood concentration between one and three hours."

"If he wakes tomorrow morning still running a high fever, bringing him in then would not be too late."

"Thank you. You've gone to a great deal of trouble." Xu Chenzhu looked at Chao Musheng sleeping peacefully and pressed a fever patch to his forehead. "There's a rest room set up next door for your team tonight — I'm sorry to impose on you."

"It's our duty — please don't worry, Mr. Xu. We'll have someone on watch in the room."

The medical staff were notably composed — but then, anyone working overtime whose employer had handed them a very substantial red envelope tended toward composure.

The duty nurse, noticing Xu Chenzhu seated at the patient's bedside with no apparent intention of leaving, had the sense not to disturb him and sat quietly in the corner.

Xu Chenzhu reached out and gently swept aside the strands of hair stuck to Chao Musheng's forehead. A thread of energy gathered at his fingertips and moved, soundless, into Chao Musheng's body.

*

Chao Musheng stood behind a door. On the other side: a writhing mass of deformed creatures. Some covered in countless eyes. Some with taloned wings. They roared and contorted, the red of their pupils thick with hatred.

"Open it. Let us in." A creature with a human face and an octopus body surged against the door, forcing itself through the gap. It opened its fang-lined mouth at Chao Musheng — and got kicked squarely away.

"Out." Chao Musheng kicked off one and knocked back the others shoving through. "All of you, out."

He felt powerful all the way through. One kick per monster.

When the last of them had been sent off, he turned and found something familiar clinging to the windowsill.

The eyeless blob again. The one that looked exactly like a virus culture.

"Kicked all of them away and almost forgot about you?" Chao Musheng jumped up onto the sill, grabbed the thing by a tentacle, and started hitting it with his fist.

The virus-blob enraged — its tentacles erupted outward and lunged for Chao Musheng's throat.

"Ha!" Chao Musheng dodged, grabbed the tentacles, and caught all of them in his fist.

Soft. Repulsively soft. One hand full of tentacles, the other swinging at the thing's head.

Clang.

After several impacts, a small model mountain fell off the blob.

The moment the mountain fell, the virus-blob let out a sound like an infant screaming — pitched and continuous, sharp enough to set Chao Musheng's ears ringing.

"Stop that noise!" The sound was unbearable. He hit harder.

Clang. Clang.

More miniatures fell — a house, then a car, then a plane, then something like a small amusement park, a cinema. A rain of tiny things.

Its body hurt. His ears hurt.

Finally, the blob couldn't take it anymore. It bit through its own tentacles where Chao Musheng's fist held them, and launched itself out the window.

"Disgusting." Chao Musheng looked at the severed tentacles twitching in his hand, found a small stove in the room, and threw them in.

The burning tentacles gave off a terrible smell. He choked on it.

"Cough, cough—" The coughing brought him awake, his throat raw and burning.

"Here, drink something." A straw appeared at his lips. Chao Musheng drank without thinking, then registered that the person holding the cup was Xu Chenzhu — still in last night's clothes, sleeves slightly creased.

Though even like this, he lost nothing of his composure.

"Mr. Xu." Chao Musheng tried to sit up. His entire body had turned to warm water — more exhausted than after his school's three-kilometer run.

"Your fever reached 39.8. You need to go to hospital right now." Xu Chenzhu waited for him to finish the water, set the cup aside, helped him upright, and took a jacket from the wardrobe to drape over his shoulders. "The car is outside. Let's go."

"All right." Chao Musheng nodded without argument.

"Wait." Xu Chenzhu bent down, found his shoes, and put them on his feet. "A sick person shouldn't go barefoot."

In the moment Xu Chenzhu bent down, Chao Musheng saw the clean line of his neck — the pale blue of a vein faint at the hollow of his throat.

"Do you feel very bad?" Xu Chenzhu looked up, saw him staring at nothing, and stood to help him off the bed, his tone gently coaxing. "Once the doctor's seen you at the hospital, you'll feel better quickly."

He regretted not taking Zhaozhao to hospital last night.

"Not very bad." Chao Musheng shook his head. "Just no energy."

Xu Chenzhu stepped in front of him and went down on one knee.

"Get on. I'll carry you to the car."

"Mr. Xu—" Chao Musheng stared at the man crouching before him.

"Come on." Xu Chenzhu glanced back, his voice easy. "Sick people get special treatment."

He wanted to point out that he wasn't so far gone that he couldn't walk. But faced with that gentle and unwavering look, he put his hands over his face and got on.

Fine. As long as no one saw, it wasn't embarrassing.

Mr. Xu was several years older. Chao Musheng was still in primary school when Mr. Xu turned eighteen.

Round the numbers up and it was just a big brother giving a small child a piggyback. No problem at all.

Secretary Liu had just finished transferring Ink Blob into a pet carrier when he looked up to find the boss carrying Xiao Chao out the door — Xiao Chao had pulled his jacket hood up over his head in mortification, the portrait of someone who did not want to be seen. Secretary Liu took the hint, picked up the carrier, and followed without a word.

He signaled the bodyguards: everyone stay quiet.

Surrounded by the faint clean scent of green leaves, no other voices anywhere, Chao Musheng gradually let his shoulders drop. The walk from the main building to the car was short, and once he'd ducked inside, he murmured his thanks: "Mr. Xu — thank you. I'll walk from the car at the hospital."

"I know." Xu Chenzhu looked at the flush burning across his face. "Lean on me and sleep — we'll be there soon."

"All right." Chao Musheng felt awful enough not to be ceremonious about it. He tipped his head onto Xu Chenzhu's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Mr. Xu was genuinely good. As thoughtful as his dormitory's eldest brother.

The one difference being that his eldest brother, when carrying him through a sick spell once, had nearly dropped him — whereas Mr. Xu carried him without any sense of effort at all. Not a single stumble.

When term started again, he should remind his eldest brother to work on his physical fitness. No excuses at his age.

*

"You had such bad luck, You Jiu." The alliance member who'd been waiting looked relieved when You Jiu came through the exit cleanly. "The instance you were in collapsed — I thought you weren't going to make it out."

"If I hadn't happened to have a Forced Exit on me, I wouldn't have." You Jiu looked up at the main display in the player lounge — and in that instant, the screens went black. The floating light-globes scattered across the vast ceiling flickered.

A sound rose through the hall.

Bang.

Several of the globes burst. The screens flashed, then recovered. The shattered pieces of the globes vanished without trace, as though the disturbance had never occurred.

"More instances shut down by force." His alliance member stared at the screen. "Nearly thirty this time."

A lot of players had noticed. Theories were already spreading. You Jiu, scanning the crowd, spotted Curly Hair — and beside her, the large, apparently not-very-bright one.

Had they also had Forced Exit cards? Otherwise how had they left?

No — Forced Exit cards functioned as a last-resort backup life. Items that rare, that difficult to obtain. There was no world in which that many players all had one.

Ding — new exploration instance posted. Maximum five players. Rewards at fifty times the standard rate. Eligible players: top two hundred by ranking. If spots are unfilled in three days, remaining places will be assigned by random draw from the top two hundred.

Fifty times?!

The hall erupted. Fifty times the points and items?

When had the Main God come into money? This kind of generosity was unprecedented.

Within half an hour the forums had hundreds of pages of discussion, most of it lower-ranked players envying those eligible to enter.

There's no such thing as a free lunch. That kind of reward means you might go in and not come back.

Jealous, try looking in a mirror.

Every recent exploration instance has had zero successful clears. High-rankers, think carefully.

The high-rankers were careful. Hours passed after the announcement with no one volunteering.

"Curly Hair." Wu-ge, Xiao Liu, Tiger — they were all trying to talk her out of it, asking her to rest.

"Something's wrong with this instance, the reward's too high." Wu-ge glanced at Tiger, who had newly joined their circle. "Let me go instead."

"No — your reputation among the players is good, we still need you to keep building that coalition." Curly Hair pressed the registration button. "Besides, out of all of us, I'm the best fit for this one."

Within five minutes of her registering, all five spots were filled.

Fifty times the reward was an effective argument.

She couldn't tell if it was her imagination, but the way this instance had been announced — it felt like it carried the energy of someone gritting their teeth in fury.

The Main God's space had been closing instances for a while now. First three or five at a time. Then seven or eight. Now thirty in one go.

Ding — player roster complete. Instance opens in thirty minutes. Please prepare.

They filled it and it's opening immediately?

Curly Hair opened the new instance description.

A hospital — the revolving door between life and death. What will you see here: living or dying? When night falls, who walks these corridors — the living or the dead?

Come. Hear the grief-cry of the departed.

Go. This world keeps no one without purpose.

You — do you choose life, or death?

Choosing between life and death?

Curly Hair had a bad feeling. Was the wretched Main God about to run some kind of forced NPC-and-player mutual elimination game?

Ding — instance opening. Countdown: ten, nine—

Ding — player has entered the instance. Twenty HP deducted. Your role: hospital cleaning staff. Keeping the hospital clean and sanitary is your duty. A patient complaint is your greatest fear.

Today's mission: obtain one letter of thanks from a patient.

"You five have been assigned specifically to the premium ward." The man speaking was short and heavyset, with appraising eyes. "There is no room for error during your working hours. Your shift runs from 3 PM to 5 AM, with one hour of rest from 7 to 8 PM. If a patient needs anything — regardless of what you're doing — you stop and attend to them immediately."

"Do you understand?"

"Thank you so much, Director — we're so grateful for this opportunity, I'll give it everything I have." Curly Hair looked at the man with an expression of pure admiration.

"Good." He nodded, satisfied. "Your attitude is right. What's your name?"

"Xiao Juan, Director." She beamed at him.

"Xiao Juan." He flipped through her personnel file. "Starting today, you're responsible for rooms one through three."

"Yes, Director." She watched his expression. From one person alone, she couldn't yet read the depth of this world.

After assigning the other four their ward numbers, the director led them to collect their equipment.

"One more thing." When they had everything in hand, he turned back. "There are police officers currently present in the premium ward area. Do not ask questions about this, and do not disclose any patient's personal information."

"The hospital prohibits disclosure of patient information — particularly for premium ward patients, who have sensitive identities." His gaze moved over all five of them. "Work is not easy to find. Don't bring trouble on yourselves."

"Thank you for the reminder, Director. We'll remember."

When the director had gone, You Jiu turned to Curly Hair with a mild smile. "What a coincidence — we meet again."

"It is, isn't it." Curly Hair pulled on her cleaning gloves and looked at the other four still in their street clothes. "Aren't you going to change?"

The better the hospital, the stricter its dress code — even cleaning staff wore a required uniform.

The others were experienced players; they searched the room, found the dress code manual, and followed it to the letter.

When they were dressed, the director came back in, looked them over, and nodded. "Good."

At least better than the type who needed prompting for every single step.

He handed out their staff ID cards. "You swipe in and out every shift — missed swipes are recorded as absences."

"Since you're ready, you may as well start now." He checked the time: noon. Well before the formal start of their shift.

New staff needed to show eagerness if they wanted to make a good impression.

All five players understood perfectly well that the director was squeezing their unpaid time, and all five played along without comment, falling in behind him as he led them to the premium ward.

Floors polished mirror-bright. Walls spotless. Windows so clean they seemed not to exist. Smiling doctors and nurses. Rows of immaculate plants. Everything signaling the particular status of those housed here.

Qi Shi noted the nearest room number — fifteen, meaning fifteen premium rooms on this floor. His assignment: rooms four through six.

The further in they went, the more bodyguards stood outside the rooms. When he reached room six, he found uniformed officers at the door.

He didn't stop to clean. Instead, he continued on — walked the full length of the floor.

At the end of the corridor: the nurses' station, two or three nurses on duty, and across from it, the doctors' office. Both were unusually still. Even the nurse filing a chart moved with particular care.

The call bell rang. The nurses rose instantly and moved toward the elevator.

Qi Shi went back to his assigned area, pretended to polish the glass, and kept his eyes toward the elevator.

The doors opened quickly. Several people came out, surrounding a young man in a wheelchair. Flushed cheeks. Striking-looking.

"Mr. Chao is in room four."

"Mr. Xu — Mr. Chao's temperature has exceeded 40. He'll need IV medication."

Room four?

That was his ward.

Qi Shi watched this young man of improbably good looks being attended from all sides, and concluded he would probably not be an easy patient to deal with.

"Cough, cough." Chao Musheng sat slumped in the wheelchair. His palms were burning; he'd have liked nothing better than to press an ice block against his chest.

Thinking back to Master Xuan coughing theatrically every other minute for the past two days — he'd better not have caught something from that man.

"Are you feeling very bad?" Xu Chenzhu noticed Chao Musheng's labored breathing and touched his forehead. "Getting hotter."

"Mr. Xu — your hands are cold. That feels so good." Chao Musheng pressed his hand over Xu Chenzhu's cool fingers; the relief it brought against his burning palm was only partial. He shook his slightly swimming head. "I feel like I'm the fourth Gourd Brother right now."

"The — what?" Xu Chenzhu, fist held hostage by a very hot hand, didn't dare move. "Which... which fourth brother?"

It was Zhaozhao running the fever. And yet Xu Chenzhu felt warmth radiating through his entire body.

"Because the fourth one is the fire gourd."

"Still coherent enough to make jokes — can't be that serious." Xu Chenzhu managed a helpless smile. "Your room is nearly here. Go lie down."

"I've disliked the smell of disinfectant since I was small." Chao Musheng coughed again, and turned toward Secretary Liu — who immediately handed him water.

Chao Musheng drank several large gulps and then caught sight of the cleaning staff member near the window, and nodded politely with a smile.

Qi Shi hadn't anticipated being smiled at by a patient who looked like he belonged in a luxury suite. He returned it reflexively.

Then remembered he was wearing a mask. The other person couldn't see his face at all.

His life-or-death mission — would it involve this patient?

"Thank you, Brother Liu." Chao Musheng handed the water back. "It's just a minor illness — you don't need to look that worried."

Secretary Liu turned a gentle smile on the boss, whose ears were red as a live coal, and observed that someone who appeared very composed was in fact internally braided into knots.

The door to room three opened. A woman stepped out in green cleaning coveralls, work cap, and mask. Chao Musheng turned his head and their eyes met.

Even with only her eyes showing, he knew her instantly.

Not even half a day — and you've changed jobs again?