Chapter 86

Acts of Courage

You Jiu came back to himself after a few seconds and remembered — this was the real world, not an instance.

Too long in instances, and the reflex of operating by instance rules had become automatic.

He pulled out his phone. A new option had appeared in the bottom left corner of the screen: Emergency Call. He was certain it hadn't been there when he first entered the instance.

He tapped it. Three sets of three-digit numbers appeared.

Which one?

He had no idea what the emergency number was in this world.

He looked around and spotted a public safety notice on the wall with the police number. He dialed the top number immediately.

The people in the corridor hadn't yet worked out what had happened. Then they saw Curly Hair kick the knife aside, and understanding landed: someone had tried to commit violence in the pediatric ward.

The largest hospital in the area and he'd specifically chosen the children's floor. That kind of targeting could only mean one thing.

Some of the patients' family members — the ones with hot tempers — came running. They twisted the man's arms, pinned his legs, and one mother charged in and seized him by the hair.

Screaming and roaring, strands of hair and a flying slipper.

You Jiu felt several loose hairs drift down onto his feet, and before he could even open his mouth, an angry family member barreled into him and nearly knocked him clear.

"Stop, stop." The medical staff couldn't be seen doing nothing while the cameras were on. They stood at the edge of the crowd and yelled. "Everyone please calm down."

Nobody listened. They didn't push urgently — just kept repeating, patient and gentle: "Please give way. Please let us through."

It wasn't that they didn't want to intervene. It was that the crowd's fury was beyond their physical capacity to manage.

"Help! Someone call the police — get me out of here!"

Less than two minutes in, the man being beaten was already screaming for rescue.

But the news had spread: a knife-wielding attacker had gotten into the pediatric ward. Every family member on the floor came running. If the hospital security hadn't moved fast to block people from other wards, the entire pediatric floor would have become impassable.

"Let's go." It took all three of them combined effort and improvisation to push through the crowd. The elevator was impossible; they took the stairs.

"I believe you now." You Jiu's head was still full of the image of a ferocious mother yanking the attacker by the hair. "This is a real world."

Only in a real world would the locals produce this many different reactions.

Because they were people. Actual living people.

"Anyone who goes after children is worthless." He turned to Curly Hair. "Right?"

"Not just worthless — stupid." She said. "He thought he'd picked the weakest target. He forgot that most people are at their most fearless when it's their children."

*

By the time the police arrived, the attacker was unrecognizable.

Facing the crowd's righteous fury, the officers threw themselves into pulling the man out — fortunately, this was a hospital, so the damage could be addressed.

"Please calm down — killing someone is a criminal offense."

It took the officers, with the hospital's help, another thirty minutes to extract the attacker from the pediatric floor. They looked at the man's condition and immediately sent him to emergency care.

"National hospitals have been rolling out security screening — how did someone with a knife get past?"

The inpatient director gave the officers a tired smile. "We're implementing it in stages. Patient volume is high, and many patients already have metal medical devices on their bodies. Achieving the level of screening you'd see at an airport is genuinely difficult."

"Director — there's already video circulating online. It's from our hospital."

That was the last thing he needed. "Get in touch with the administrative team. Handle the public communications immediately."

He continued on with the officers to the security office to review the day's footage.

Fortunately, the hospital used Kunlun's latest facial recognition monitoring system. The attacker's entry time and route were identified quickly.

"Wait." One of the officers paused the footage at the elevator scene. "Look at these three. The attacker had only just gotten into the elevator when they seem to have noticed something was wrong."

What followed confirmed his reading.

One drew the attacker's attention. One moved to subdue. One blocked his forward path. Between the three of them, the suspect hadn't had the opportunity to draw the knife before he was on the ground.

"Good observational instincts. Steady nerves." The officer watched the takedown sequence several times. "If they hadn't acted in time, the outcome could have been much worse."

A cold sweat broke across the director's back. Without those three members of the public, both he and the hospital director would be finished.

*

The incident spread quickly on short video platforms and generated a wave of commentary.

The woman who kicked him — clean and decisive, better than any martial arts drama.

The three of them worked so well together — do they know each other?

My grandfather does martial arts. He watched the video and said the woman has training.

They should be recognized for outstanding courage. We can't let good people feel it wasn't worth it.

Curly Hair and the others didn't yet know they'd gone viral. They rested for half an hour, changed back into their cleaning uniforms, and reported for their shift.

Probably because of the knife incident, the ninth floor had added a security officer on patrol, the corridor bodyguard count had doubled, and room seven had acquired a young, solid male nursing aide.

You Jiu walked in and was immediately scanned by the aide with a sharp look.

"Xiao You." Mrs. Wu was on her phone and gestured at the screen when he came in. "The person in this video looks very much like you."

He leaned over to look. It was footage of the three of them taking down the attacker.

The angle was somewhat unflattering — it had also caught the moment he was nearly knocked off his feet.

The look on his face when he almost got bowled over — completely lost.

Good work to the parents. If I'd been there I'd have hit harder.

The situation was serious, but watching the woman who did the kicking get shoved into a corner by the crowd and stand there looking small and alone — still funny.

You Jiu smiled without confirming the person in the video was him.

He finished cleaning the room, declined Mrs. Wu's offer of a peach, and came out to find himself face to face with Xiao He, just leaving room eight.

Even through the mask, Xiao He recognized him immediately — two people who had once hidden under the same bed could hardly forget each other.

The Xiao He in his police uniform still had some of that youth about him, but the easy-to-fool quality he'd had in Chen Garden was gone.

You Jiu had suspected from the beginning that Xiao He was an undercover officer. At the time he'd just been puzzled about why an instance would generate one. Now that he understood everything, seeing Xiao He again brought a feeling he couldn't quite name.

Xiao He glanced at the cleaning uniform, gave him a friendly nod.

"Xiao He — keep up." The team leader was ahead.

"Coming, team leader." He jogged to catch up, notebook in hand.

You Jiu watched his retreating back for a moment, then turned and knocked on room eight's door.

A nursing aide opened it. The room was quiet. The Chen family's second young master lay flat on the bed, face pale, and didn't react to someone entering.

You Jiu kept his head down, finished the cleaning, and pulled the door shut — then thought, belatedly: if this is a real world, why would anyone still offer up blood relatives as ritual sacrifices?

Perhaps human greed looked the same wherever you were.

*

Xiao He got into the precinct's battered old car with his team leader. The heat inside was considerable. He leaned against the back seat and, somehow, fell asleep.

"Team leader — a hospital in the east district, a resident jumped from the building—"

"Fifth floor of a hospital, violent incident, two medical staff in critical condition, one child died despite rescue efforts, two parents' families still in critical care—"

"This is urgent — a patient's daughter tried to pull her father off a ledge, the father shoved her from the ninth floor—"

Multiple serious incidents in a single day. The eastern district hospital had seemed cursed — after that, disappearances of medical staff and unexplained patient deaths were frequent. Gradually, it was as though the hospital had been forgotten, a wasteland no one entered.

Xiao He jolted upright, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Team leader — it's so hot in here."

"Air conditioning broke." The team leader didn't look back. "Another five minutes to the precinct."

Xiao He tugged at his sweat-soaked uniform and opened his phone. He found that the knife incident on the fifth floor had actually occurred.

"Team leader — the pediatric ward case — were there casualties?" He'd just scared himself into another wave of sweat.

"That one's being handled by the substation." The team leader rolled down the window. "The attacker was beaten fairly severely by bystanders — he's not yet out of danger."

"No civilians injured?"

"He didn't get a chance to use the knife. Bystanders subdued him before he could act." The team leader was also struggling with the heat. He had no idea when the precinct was going to issue them a new car — this one's air conditioning had broken down several times already this year.

"Good."

Xiao He exhaled quietly. He'd been having bad dreams lately; fortunately, this one seemed to have run in reverse.

*

The ninth-floor ward director watched the trending video three times and became increasingly convinced the three members of the public were his cleaning staff.

He slapped his knee. If that was them — this was excellent news.

He tucked away his phone and stepped out of his office, then stopped. The resident he'd given leave to yesterday was in the corridor. "You still have half a day left. Why are you back already?"

"Good morning, Director." The young man looked exhausted but his expression was alive. "I brought my grandmother to our hospital for treatment."

When he'd rushed home the previous afternoon, he'd found his grandmother had already purchased pesticide.

He'd been born in a rural village. His grandmother had raised him alone through every hardship. He'd spent years grinding through medical school with the thought that one day he could heal her. How could he accept her choosing to die?

The director paused. "What do the test results say?"

"The liver and gallbladder team says it may have been a misdiagnosis at the local hospital. She can be admitted for observation and treatment." He thanked the director again. "Thank you."

If the director hadn't approved the leave—

The director pulled out his phone, opened the transfer screen, typed in 5,432 yuan, thought about it, kept 32 for himself, and sent 5,400 to the resident. "Consider this a loan. Pay me back when your grandmother recovers."

It wasn't much. But it was his private savings, set aside with some effort.

"Trust this hospital's doctors. When you're on shift, focus on work — don't let family worries distract you."

"Thank you, Director!" The resident bowed. "I'll work hard and not let you down!"

He studied the director's expression, confirmed he wasn't annoyed, steeled himself with a red face, and said: "Director — I brought some sun-dried fruit from home. Could you pass it on to Mr. Chao for me?"

"A thanks like that deserves to be delivered in person." The director hesitated. "I'll take you."

*

Chao Musheng's drip had finished for the day. When the director found him, he was remotely resolving a code issue in the gaming division.

Xu Chenzhu and Secretary Liu had gone to the company for a meeting. The room held only the bodyguard and Chao Musheng.

"Mr. Chao." The director, by now accustomed to maintaining a pleasant manner with the ninth-floor patients, apologized for the interruption.

"Director?" Chao Musheng got up and gestured to the seats. Behind the director stood a young man holding a cloth bag. "And this is—?"

"Mr. Chao." The resident's face was red as he held out the bag. "Thank you. This is a small thing from me and my grandmother."

The director nearly hit himself in the leg. He doesn't even know how to talk — what a hopeless case.

"Mr. Chao — this is the resident you helped get leave yesterday. He's brought his grandmother back to be admitted today. Her condition is much better than feared. He wanted to thank you personally."

"Yes."

The resident looked at Chao Musheng's face — and his hands, which were particularly notable — and became completely flustered. The cloth bag slipped out of his grip and hit the floor.

Dried vegetables, dried daikon radish, walnuts — scattered everywhere.

"I'm — I'm sorry—"

He suddenly realized these things probably looked like garbage to someone like Chao Musheng. He dropped to the floor and started frantically gathering the rolling walnuts.

"These mountain walnuts are very crisp." Chao Musheng crouched, cracked one open with one hand, gave half to the director, and ate the other half himself. "My maternal grandparents grow walnuts too, but the shells are thicker than these."

"Mr. Chao — you still have the IV cannula in your hand, let me pick these up." The director crouched to help.

"All of this is for me?" Chao Musheng seemed not to notice the resident's mortification. "I only said a few words — taking this much from you doesn't feel right."

"When I got home last night, my grandmother had already bought pesticide." The resident shook his head, meeting Chao Musheng's eyes with particular earnestness. "If I hadn't made it back, I'd have no grandmother right now. You saved both of us."

The director's hand paused in the middle of picking up walnuts. He was beginning to regret keeping those 32 yuan.

"My parents died when I was young. My grandmother raised me by herself, rather than go live with my aunts and uncles, so she stayed in the old house in the village alone." The resident put the walnuts back in the bag. "She raised four children and the years were hard. It left her with a lot of chronic illness. When I was small, I believed that if I became a doctor, I could cure everything wrong with her."

"You'll become a remarkable doctor." Chao Musheng smiled warmly. "There's an elder in my village whose child is a doctor — everyone in the village admires him. He walks with a spring in his step."

"You also grew up in a village, Mr. Chao?" The resident was surprised. Someone like Chao Musheng looked, by every measure, like someone who had never been near a mountain.

"My maternal grandparents live there — I was the neighborhood ringleader as a child." Chao Musheng picked up the packet of dried daikon, sealed neatly in a clean plastic bag. It was obvious the person who'd packaged it had taken care.

"Dried daikon braised with smoked pork is incredibly fragrant." Chao Musheng spotted cured meat and sausage in the bag and cheerfully tucked the daikon back in. "A few words on my part, and you're giving me all this good food — I really don't deserve it."

Seeing that Chao Musheng hadn't rejected what he'd brought, the resident's embarrassment slowly dissolved, leaving only gratitude. "If you like them, I'll bring more next time."

The director: "Ahem."

Whether Mr. Chao actually liked the food, he couldn't say. But the thoughtfulness — that he could see.

"What's your grandmother's condition?"

Once everything had been gathered, Chao Musheng gestured for the resident to sit.

"A liver problem." He looked at the floor, red-faced. "Our hospital's doctors say it's treatable."

Chao Musheng glanced at the resident's somewhat faded shirt. "时光 magazine runs a charity partnership with a foundation that has an assistance program for liver and kidney conditions in rural elderly patients. You could try applying."

The resident was lost. The director understood immediately — Chao Musheng was looking for a way to reduce the financial burden.

Ordinary people had access to so little. If Chao Musheng hadn't mentioned it, how would anyone have known these programs existed?

"As for whether Xiao Luo qualifies—" The director, seeing the resident still hadn't caught on, spoke on his behalf. "What documentation would be needed?"

"Probably not complicated — let me call and ask." Chao Musheng dialed his mother directly.

The moment she picked up, his tone turned thoroughly ingratiating. "Dearest Mother — are you busy right now?"

"That tone of yours means you want something." Chao Yin gave a light laugh and put down her pen. "Go ahead. Are you asking me to wire you money, or buy you something?"

"Neither." Chao Musheng glanced at the director and resident, coughed once, and covered the mouthpiece. "A friend of mine is in some financial difficulty. His grandmother has serious liver disease. I recall that one of 时光's charity partners has a program for liver and gallbladder conditions — could you get me an application form?"

"Of course — I'll send you the contact information shortly." Chao Yin found this slightly odd. "How do you know about these?"

"I was reading through 时光's materials last night." He laughed. "Thank you, dearest Mother. Love you."

"I hear you. Come home at a reasonable hour when you're discharged." Her tone warmed. She ended the call, composed her expression, and told her assistant: "Publish the guest list and confirmed corporate attendees at eight tonight."

"Chao-jie — since first thing this morning, multiple artist management teams have been in contact. Everyone says they can fully accommodate our scheduling."

Previously, A-listers had complained about the three-day duration and mostly only agreed to the red carpet. The moment word got out that the Kunlun headquarters representative would be present for the full event, artists currently shooting in remote mountains suddenly had convenient transport, and those at sea suddenly had free time, and the ones who'd said their production wouldn't grant leave found that they had it after all.

In what seemed like an instant, every major name in the entertainment industry appeared to have opened a slot in their schedule.

Nobody knew yet who Kunlun headquarters would send. There was a rumor that the head of Kunlun had two particularly trusted right-hand people lately. If either of them attended in person, 时光 was going to need to rethink some seating.

*

With the 时光 editor-in-chief personally making inquiries, the resident's application cleared review by that evening.

Working late at his station, he looked at the message from the charity foundation, walked out of the office into the corridor, and only then remembered it was the middle of the night and Mr. Chao was probably already asleep.

Mr. Chao was right. He was going to become a good doctor.

Qi Shi stood in the corridor and watched the resident walk back and forth several times — and saw his exhaustion value drop from 78 to 50.

How was that possible.

A man with dark circles deep enough to rival a panda's, who hadn't slept or rested, just walked a few laps of the corridor — and his exhaustion went down?

He took the glasses off and put them in his pocket.

Tools produced by the system behaved strangely in the real world. Of course they did.

He himself had gone without sleep all day and was working another overnight shift. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Just make it to morning. Then they'd be off shift.

*

When morning came, Qi Shi's wish fell apart.

The three of them were standing in the corridor when they were suddenly surrounded by strangers.

A lion dance troupe circled them. Someone hung large red ceremonial flowers around their necks. In the same moment Qi Shi looked down, a sash appeared across his chest, four gold characters embroidered on it: Acts of Outstanding Courage.

Qi Shi stared blankly. What did these people want?

To the sound of gongs and drums, the hospital director came forward personally, shook each of their hands, and pressed a red card into each palm: Award: 50,000 yuan.

Qi Shi and You Jiu were still catching up. Curly Hair was already standing next to the director for a photograph.

"Thank you. If not for you, our children could have been in serious danger."

The sash fabric was a little rough. You Jiu felt his neck starting to itch.

The red flower was somewhat gaudy. It looked terrible pinned to his chest.

But standing in the noise of applause and praise, You Jiu put his hand over the flower and felt, without meaning to, a smile come to his face.

It was a slightly foolish smile. Nothing like his usual expression.

Kind. Brave. Good people.

He heard those words moving through the crowd.

Was that him?

Kind?

Everything he'd done had been calculated toward mission rewards. Assess the situation, act accordingly.

Brave?

He could be flexible or stubborn as needed; he had never particularly cared about appearances.

Good?

You Jiu thought back a long time. Maybe, before the Main God's space, he'd been good.

"Thank you for what you've done for this hospital and our community." The hospital director looked at the three of them with genuine warmth. Learning after the fact that the three public-spirited citizens were his own cleaning staff, he'd slept exceptionally well the second half of the night.

The internet was right, though — no amount of verbal praise matched a direct cash award.

The three cleaning staff got their money. The hospital got a good name. A clean win for both sides.

*

Curly Hair scanned the crowd while holding her award and found, as expected, Chao Musheng.

He was standing in the crowd waving at them with a grin. Xu Chenzhu was behind him — still holding the IV drip above Chao Musheng's head.

The drip isn't even finished and you're out here watching the ceremony?

Chao Musheng caught Curly Hair looking and gave her a thumbs up.

That's our Curly Hair. The incarnation of justice.

"Curly Hair-jiejie is so cool." Zeng Ning was standing at the door of room two. She could hear the commotion from the director's end of the floor. She turned back to look at her mother, still unconscious on the bed.

Last night she and the aides had kept watch. Her father hadn't come.

She watched the lion still bouncing in the corridor and thought of the folk belief she'd heard somewhere — lion dances brought good luck.

"Xiao Ning?" Chao Musheng noticed her. "What's wrong?"

Zeng Ning held the red string in her hands without knowing how to begin.

She looked at him and said quietly: "I want — to ask the lion for a blessing."