Chapter 6: The Chameleon Superman p1
Fang Qiang felt his entire body burning.
But this burning was different from the agonizing feeling of being boiled alive. Instead, it was like soaking in a hot spring, a comfortable warmth spreading through his entire being.
He still couldn’t cry out, couldn’t move, couldn’t even open his eyes. His consciousness remained hazy, unaware of what was happening.
The piercing pain that had wracked his limbs was now completely gone, replaced by a warm current that flowed ceaselessly through his meridians.
After what felt like an eternity, the comfortable warmth vanished. It felt as if columns of ice-cold water were being poured over him, as if his entire body was being blasted by a fountain.
Fang Qiang couldn’t help but let out a soft groan. He felt his body being lifted. A mask-like object was placed over his mouth and nose, and he breathed in incredibly fresh air.
Then, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he sank back into a deep sleep…
…
When Fang Qiang woke again, he found himself in a quiet hospital room.
It felt as if he had just had a wonderful, deep sleep. The moment he opened his eyes, he felt refreshed and full of energy.
But the first thing he saw was that he was lying in a hospital bed, wrapped from head to toe in thick white gauze. Even his face was covered, making him look like a mummy.
Fang Qiang was stunned. What happened? Was I injured?
He moved his body slightly but felt no discomfort.
He tried to sit up and did so with ease, feeling no pain at all. Strange… Was I not injured at all? Or was I injured, but I’ve already healed?
As he was wondering, the door to the room opened, and a nurse walked in carrying a tray of medical supplies.
“Oh my god, how are you able to sit up?”
The moment she saw him, the nurse cried out in alarm and rushed over. She set down the tray and carefully supported his body, treating him like a critically ill patient on the verge of death.
“Lie down, quickly. If you move around, you’ll make your injuries worse…” the nurse chided, her actions gentle but firm as she pushed him back down onto the bed.
“I’m fine. Why are you treating me like a patient?” Fang Qiang asked, completely bewildered.
“You have severe burns all over your body. There’s barely a patch of undamaged skin left, and you’re saying you’re fine?” The nurse suddenly covered her mouth, as if afraid of upsetting him, and quickly fell silent.
“Burns? No way. Why don’t I… feel any pain at all?”
Fang Qiang didn’t believe her. He stretched his arms and legs. There was nothing wrong with them.
“Are you joking, nurse? With severe burns, you can’t be wrapped up this tightly! Burn victims aren’t supposed to be bandaged…”
“This is our hospital’s unique wet-bandage therapy. We’ve applied a special ointment, our own secret formula… Don’t move, don’t move! Look, when the firefighters pulled you out, you were on fire and smoking. Everyone said it was a miracle you even survived…”
“What? I was rescued from a fire?” Fang Qiang asked blankly.
“Yes. You mean you don’t know what happened?” the nurse asked, looking at him curiously. She gave him a brief account of the events. Only then did Fang Qiang understand that Professor Mo’s lab had caught fire. He had injected himself with poison and then been engulfed in flames, yet somehow he was still alive and well. It was a situation so absurd he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
But since he had survived such an ordeal, Fang Qiang no longer had any thoughts of suicide. He was, however, a little worried. Were his burns really that severe, and he just couldn’t feel them? That didn’t seem right…
Just then, the attending physician came in. He was shocked to see the severely burned patient awake so soon and seemingly in good spirits. He quickly called in the other specialists on the case, and they began a consultation.
After a lengthy examination, the doctors unanimously concluded that Fang Qiang’s recovery rate was beyond all expectations. He would be ready for extensive skin graft surgery the next day.
“What? Skin grafts?” Fang Qiang yelled in terror. “I don’t want skin grafts! The thought of having my whole body covered in smelly pigskin is disgusting!”
“You have burns covering over 95% of your body. Without grafts, your condition will only get worse,” one of the specialists warned.
But Fang Qiang adamantly refused, insisting his injuries weren’t serious and that he would recover with just the ointment. When they continued to argue, he had a flash of inspiration and claimed he had no money to pay for the expensive surgery.
The doctors immediately hesitated. They conferred for a while. Seeing that Fang Qiang looked lively and energetic, not at all like a typical critically ill patient, they reluctantly agreed.
Next, the nurse picked up a syringe to give him an injection. But Fang Qiang, now as jumpy as a cornered animal, suspected it was an anesthetic and refused it at all costs. He began to clamor to be discharged immediately.
“Then let him be. It’s his own request. We’ve done our duty,” the attending physician said, his patience worn thin. He agreed without another word.
Although the specialists felt it was unwise, there was nothing else they could do. They simply instructed Fang Qiang to rest well at home, apply his medication daily, and return to the hospital immediately if he felt any unbearable pain.
Fang Qiang nodded repeatedly, though it was unclear if he was listening.
After the hospital processed his discharge, they called in several strong male doctors to carry him out on a stretcher. They took him home in an ambulance, helped him onto his bed, and left after dropping off the medical bill.
The hospital’s kindness was not born of high moral character. Decades of medical reform in China had produced doctors whose skills were secondary to their ability to recognize money. They had two great fears when it came to patients: one, that they would die in the hospital and their families would cause trouble; and two, that they would have no money, meaning all treatment would be for nothing. Since this seemingly hopeless patient had no money and wanted to leave, the doctors were more than happy to oblige.
The moment the doctors left, Fang Qiang scrambled out of bed. He waved his arms, jumped, and somersaulted, testing every joint in his body.
Still nothing wrong! No pain, no itching. In fact, he felt even more flexible than before. Damn it! Were those doctors exaggerating my condition to squeeze more money out of me?
The suspicion had already taken root in the hospital, and now it grew even stronger.
Gritting his teeth, Fang Qiang went to the kitchen, grabbed a pair of scissors, and quickly cut off all the gauze wrapped around his body.
As the bandages fell away, they revealed his naked body underneath.
Seeing himself, Fang Qiang let out a horrified gasp. His eyes nearly popped out of his head.
His entire body was as black as charcoal. All of his skin was charred, and in many places, it was clearly ulcerating.
Fang Qiang’s legs went weak. He was filled with terror and alarm. The doctors were right. These are definitely severe burns!
Anyone seeing their body ravaged to such a horrifying extent would suffer a mental breakdown.
Fang Qiang began to pant heavily. He subconsciously reached out and rubbed the charred skin on his chest, as if trying to wipe it clean, his movements bordering on frantic.
And then, a miracle occurred.
The charred skin peeled away at his touch, like the dry bark of an old tree, revealing a layer of fresh new skin underneath.
Fang Qiang could hardly believe his eyes.
After staring in a daze for a few seconds, he began to rub other parts of his body. Sure enough, the ulcerated tissue flaked away.
At first, he had to peel it off by hand. But soon, it began to fall away on its own in large patches, like dirt being washed away by water.
The entire process was like a snake shedding its skin. It was bizarre to the extreme.
Fang Qiang was utterly astonished. He looked down again. His entire body was now covered in skin as tender, smooth, and radiant as a newborn baby’s. There was not a single trace of a burn to be seen.
Trembling, he ran his hands over his new skin. It felt firm and elastic, as if filled with an indescribable power.
Fang Qiang didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. After standing there in a stupor for a long time, he ran to the bathroom, intending to wash his hair and clear his head.
Just as he was about to turn the faucet, something utterly astounding happened.
His outstretched right hand, in the space of half a second, turned a pale gray—the exact same color as the water pipe.
Fang Qiang froze. He blinked, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. But no matter how closely he looked, his right hand was gray. The skin above his wrist was the normal color of an Asian person. The two colors formed a distinct line, like a bracelet.
Fang Qiang let out an uncontrollable scream and snatched his hand back. The skin on his hand immediately returned to normal. A chameleon?
The absurd thought popped into his head. His eyes widened in alarm. Tentatively, he pressed his hand against the green-painted wall.
His hand turned green.
Oh my god!
