Chapter 110: The Disabled Duo (2) |
"It's not that I'm fragile, I'm just a bit tired."
"I understand."
What do you understand?
Zhang Shutong looked at her strangely, about to ask, when Lu Qinglian said:
"How about I ask you a question instead—in that dream you had, what was the latest time you saw?"
Zhang Shutong hadn't expected that one second she seemed to be consoling him, and the next she'd ask such a sharp question:
"You really believe it?"
"If I believe you saw someone who looked exactly like me, then why wouldn't I believe you had a dream that predicted the future?"
"Up until Saturday morning."
"More or less."
"I understand." She nodded slightly. "One more question—how many times have you had dreams like that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb. December 5th, Wednesday, you wrote my name on scratch paper. Other people might believe whatever excuse you made up, but you can't fool me."
Lu Qinglian glanced at him:
"You had a dream that day too?"
Zhang Shutong broke out in a cold sweat. He'd almost forgotten about that. She really was sharp.
Zhang Shutong thought for a moment and didn't try to deny it:
"I did have a dream."
"What was it about?"
"I dreamed about my adult self, I guess."
"Where was your deskmate at that time?" She quickly caught the key point.
Zhang Shutong was silent for a while:
"She was killed too."
"That's the second time." Lu Qinglian seemed to be confirming something. "Last question—under what circumstances do you have these dreams?"
"When else would it be? When I'm sleeping." Zhang Shutong's heart jumped.
But she didn't probe deeper, only said lightly, "Then your sleep quality isn't very good."
"...It's okay."
Lu Qinglian changed the subject:
"You asked me why I'd help you—because if you fail, it means I'll fail too. Let me give you an example. You like fishing, right?"
Zhang Shutong nodded.
"There's a person fishing by the water. A very big fish is about to bite. If it gets away just before being reeled in, it would be very frustrating."
Zhang Shutong couldn't help but complain—you learned to fish from me, could you not talk like you're some fishing master:
"I understand more or less. You're worried that fish will disappear completely, right?" The fish referred to the figure in the Forbidden Zone.
"Wrong."
"Then what do you mean?"
"There's a high probability I won't even know that fish exists anymore. If it happens again, will that person come to fish by the shore? The person knows, the fish knows, but I don't."
Zhang Shutong didn't understand.
"It's fine if you don't understand. Let me put it more simply—I still have some interest in observing you."
"You seemed to say something similar before, yesterday when we were coming down the mountain. Why?" Zhang Shutong asked belatedly.
Thinking about it carefully, he didn't have much connection with Lu Qinglian, but her attitude toward him was indeed somewhat special. At least not like with other people, where she'd always call them "that child."
"You want to know?"
"I am a bit curious."
"Help me get a bottle of water, thanks." She said politely.
Zhang Shutong walked back to the motorcycle and handed her a bottle of water.
He thought there'd be some different answer, but who knew:
"You're quite different from other people." She unscrewed the cap, her delicate lips half-pressed against the bottle opening, the corners of her mouth curving into a subtle arc.
"'Other' meaning what, people my age?"
"All other people."
"Uh..." Zhang Shutong said in confusion, "First, let me make it clear—I'm not narcissistic, but doesn't that sound weird?"
"Interpret it however you want." Lu Qinglian said carelessly.
"It's up to you whether you explain or not." Zhang Shutong shrugged, suspecting she just wanted to trick him into running errands.
Actually, chatting with her was quite interesting. After all, both of them spoke half-truths, so there wasn't much psychological burden. Plus, she gave off a feeling that most of the time she wasn't like a girl this age—mature and calm.
"Want to go fishing again after this is all over?" Zhang Shutong learned to make promises to himself about a better future. "Not just me—Ruoping and Du Kang want to invite you again too."
"No thanks," Lu Qinglian refused coldly. "Please thank them for me."
"You're quite heartless."
"Are you thinking that once this matter is resolved, you can return to normal life?"
Zhang Shutong nodded unconsciously.
"For you, returning to normal life means going fishing," she paused, saying calmly, "but for me it's the exact opposite. If not for finding that person, I wouldn't stay at the foot of the mountain for this long."
Zhang Shutong seemed to understand.
Under normal circumstances, her identity should switch between student and temple keeper. Sitting by the water in a coat chatting with him like this was actually the exception.
It wasn't that she didn't want to, but that she couldn't.
"Actually, you could try to change things a bit." Zhang Shutong suggested.
"Zhang Shutong, having some interest in observing you doesn't include being your chat companion."
"We've already been chatting this long anyway."
"So you're pushing your luck?" She smiled faintly.
"You actually smile like that."
But when he looked again, Lu Qinglian had already returned to her indifferent expression:
"Your cold is so bad you're having hallucinations."
Looking at the time again, the two had somehow sat there until eleven o'clock. It was quiet all around, with melting snow and swaying reeds—a desolate scene.
Still no discovery.
Lu Qinglian seemed to have the power of prophecy. Blown by the cold wind, his head felt a bit dizzy. The cold medicine was supposed to be taken twice a day. According to the schedule, taking it once more tonight would be enough, but the medicine didn't seem to be working. He felt nothing but dizzy and drowsy.
Actually, it was working—he just couldn't sleep.
Zhang Shutong felt that continuing to tough it out wasn't the solution. At the very least, he needed to maintain decent condition for tonight. Speaking of which, did hospitals in 2012 require ID cards to register? Probably not... his thoughts were getting fuzzy.
Better go get some medicine there.
"Should we keep waiting?" He asked Lu Qinglian's opinion.
"If you can hold out."
Then there was nothing more to say. The two got back on the motorcycle and headed to the hospital.
The small island was very suitable for a slow-paced life. There were still few people on the streets.
He'd sent Gu Qiumian another message earlier. She said she was eating and told him not to worry.
Zhang Shutong replied as usual, "Be careful, especially have the bodyguards watch both doors," feeling he was being a bit nagging. Whatever—even if she found him annoying, it'd only be for today.
The hospital was in the urban area. They arrived at exactly 11:20.
He'd rarely come here as a child since he'd been healthy. He only remembered it was a three-story building—first floor for outpatient care, second floor for inpatient wards, third floor for various departments. As a hospital it was very small, but as a clinic it was far too large. Usually about a dozen doctors were on duty. Don't expect to treat serious illnesses, but this was the island, so people were used to it.
Upon entering, he first smelled the faint scent of disinfectant. The lower half of the walls was painted green, the upper half's white walls had turned pale yellow, with red crosses posted on them. Zhang Shutong lined up at the window with Lu Qinglian.
"Have you been here before?"
"Basically never."
"Any unspeakable difficulties?"
"Just minor ailments, no need. Take some medicine and it passes."
Common sense was something that worked sometimes but not others for Lu Qinglian. Zhang Shutong was used to teaching her. He told her where to register, which department to go to for what illness, then where to go for treatment, and to remember to bring the medical record book next time if she had one.
"Don't treat me like I'm stupid." She said somewhat helplessly. "I'm here with you to see the doctor."
"Then guess why I registered for two appointments." Zhang Shutong said to the nurse at the window, then turned back. "One for respiratory medicine, one for surgery."
"Are you really feverish and hallucinating?" Lu Qinglian applied the knowledge she'd just learned to analyze the situation.
"Obviously it's to get your foot checked..."
Lu Qinglian seemed not to have expected this, and for a rare moment was stunned:
"That's not necessary."
"Don't be polite—no wait, don't be stubborn." Zhang Shutong was too lazy to explain. "I'm not being stubborn anymore either. If you're sick, get treated. Besides, I'm also responsible for what happened to you."
"You'd better not say things with such ambiguous meanings."
"Then should I say I'm responsible for your foot?"
"Are you doing this on purpose?" Lu Qinglian's face was expressionless.
"You're welcome."
"...Thank you." After a long while she said softly.
"I told you, no need to thank me. I'm helping myself." Zhang Shutong copied her manner and said it breezily, feeling it was the only remotely interesting thing today.
As a result, she looked at him with a dangerous expression:
"Don't imitate the way I speak."
It really was helping himself—if her foot healed, they could catch the culprit. Very simple logic.
But her eyes showed some kindness. Zhang Shutong said no more. The two first went to the respiratory medicine department. This girl had no common sense. She should have waited outside the door, but she followed right in, sat on a small stool to the side, expression calm but actually like a family member. Zhang Shutong didn't have the energy to correct her. He first explained his symptoms to the doctor, then clamped a thermometer under his arm, waiting there looking sickly.
"Do you have a runny nose?" The doctor was a middle-aged man.
"A bit."
"Phlegm?"
"No, but I'm coughing a little."
"Lift your shirt." The man picked up a stethoscope.
Zhang Shutong complied. There was nothing to be embarrassed about—even though Lu Qinglian was right there—because he still had an undershirt on.
"It's fine, just caught a chill. There's a little inflammation, but it's not the flu." The man listened for a moment but pressed on his chest just to be safe. "If it hurts..."
But before the doctor finished speaking, Zhang Shutong hissed.
"Does it hurt a lot?" The man's expression became serious, and he pulled up his mask.
"Uh, it's fine, I got kicked..."
"You kids—I see you're so clean-cut, I thought you were a good student." The man shook his head. "Fighting in the snow? If you fall and get hurt, wait to go next door, to surgery. Let me tell you, don't take it lightly. Just last week two students from your school were sent over..."
The man habitually started rambling. But Zhang Shutong thought to himself:
One, I am a good student. This wasn't a mutual fight but a one-sided beating. But the person who beat him was sitting right there, so it was awkward to say out loud.
Two, you're really prescient. We actually are going to surgery next.
When his mood was average, he was good at telling himself jokes for self-entertainment. The effect was actually pretty good.
But when the thermometer came out, Zhang Shutong couldn't laugh anymore. For no other reason—he hadn't expected to have a fever over 38 degrees.
"Your fever is quite high. I'll prescribe an IV for you. Go pay outside in a bit, then go to the first room on the left on the second floor. Give the slip to the nurse."
The man, seeing he was a student, gave him a few extra instructions.
Zhang Shutong said with a headache:
"How long will it take?"
"About three hours' worth. Let's start with three days."
"Can you switch it to a fever-reducing shot? I have something to do later."
"With your temperature, it probably won't bring it down." The man adjusted his glasses. "Plus, fever-reducing shots are bad for your body. I know you young people think IVs are too slow and don't have the patience to wait, but..."
On the contrary, he actually wanted to get an IV so he could sleep for a bit, but he really didn't have the time.
So Zhang Shutong sighed:
"I appreciate it."
"Alright, your parents aren't here either, I can't make you," the man was also easy to talk to, muttering as he wrote the prescription, "after you get the shot, go home and observe. Just stay in bed today. If it doesn't work, we'll talk."
Zhang Shutong hurriedly thanked him and called Lu Qinglian out of the office.
He was about to tell Lu Qinglian that she definitely shouldn't follow him in since he'd need to pull down his pants for the injection, but as soon as the girl came out, she apologized.
Zhang Shutong knew she was probably referring to his chest injury, but yesterday's incident really wasn't worth dwelling on.
"You can teach me how to ride. You can get the injection here." Lu Qinglian rarely reminded him.
"Forget it. I can bear it."
The two went to the adjacent surgery department. The surgeon was an auntie. Lu Qinglian took off her shoes and socks, exposing her injured foot.
Zhang Shutong sat right beside her, also playing the role of family member for once, and took a look. He found it was even more serious than he'd thought. The smooth ankle was swollen high.
Zhang Shutong felt phantom pains just looking at it. You had to know that yesterday at home it hadn't been this bad. Honestly, if he'd known Lu Qinglian's foot was this serious, he definitely wouldn't have picked her up this morning. He would have let her rest on the mountain while he went solo.
The doctor's level of surprise matched his own.
"This wasn't from today, was it? How did it get so bad?"
If the earlier uncle had been a false alarm, this auntie was genuinely serious.
"I twisted it yesterday." Lu Qinglian answered flatly.
"Did you rest at home the whole time?"
"I've been active."
"Doesn't it hurt, child?" The doctor was even more astonished. "With this kind of injury, you should have been in too much pain to move long ago."
Zhang Shutong was only more astonished than the doctor, because he knew Lu Qinglian's "been active" wasn't as simple as just walking around. On the contrary, she'd been running the whole time, even fought someone once, and today walked down from the mountain by herself... Zhang Shutong couldn't count how far she'd walked with her injury, but she'd never said anything.
"Of course it hurts."
"If it hurts, how could you..."
"There's something I must do, so I had to endure it." She said calmly.
But when the doctor pressed on her injury, she still frowned. Zhang Shutong noticed her toes curling slightly, showing it really did hurt. She was just enduring it, not insensitive to pain.
He immediately felt somewhat guilty.
"You should have come earlier, why wait until now?" Perhaps Lu Qinglian's age was similar to her daughter's—the auntie unconsciously took on the tone of an elder speaking to a junior. "You're lucky it's just a muscle strain. If you'd injured the bone, it would be terrible."
"I already treated it yesterday." But Lu Qinglian was like this with everyone—like solid ice in the snow visible everywhere outdoors, her voice without any fluctuation.
"How did you treat it?"
"I soaked my foot and applied safflower oil."
"What, soaked your foot?" The doctor's voice rose a bit upon hearing this, her brows furrowing together. "Now I finally understand why it's so serious. Within forty-eight hours after a sprain, you should use ice packs for cold compresses. Who told you to soak it in hot water?"
The doctor was clearly somewhat angry. Both were stunned.
Then the girl slowly shifted her gaze toward the boy beside her.
< ========== ToC ========== Next >
If you're enjoying what you're reading, please take a moment of your time to leave a rating or a review on NU .