Chapter 141: Centralized Hospital

Using his body as cover, within a visual blind spot, he unfolded the note with one hand.

The note was blank.

He wasn’t surprised. He simply pressed the pad of his right index finger onto the paper. A moment later, writing slowly emerged on its surface.

The message was brief to the extreme: just three characters—Qi, Jiang, Nan—followed by a check mark. The handwriting was crude; the writer had clearly been in a great hurry.

Though very abstract, Liu Xu had no trouble understanding its meaning. Nan Qiang, Qi Ran, and that girl named Jiang Zhique had escaped the Executors’ pursuit and had already made preliminary contact with Paper Cutter and the others.

He couldn’t quite figure out how Paper Cutter had gotten in touch with Nan Qiang. This paper was clearly linked to her Syndrome. The problem was, they had been continuously inoculated with the vaccine for four straight days. In the words of that young nurse, while the vaccine couldn’t completely cure their Disease, it could at least have a suppressive effect.

Liu Xu thought the nurse was being rather modest. At least as far as his own personal experience went, he couldn’t feel his Syndrome at all anymore. Aside from some swelling in his left arm from the injection, there were no particularly noticeable aftereffects.

What puzzled him, though, was that according to the nurse, this vaccine was already an improved second generation. Yet he had never heard any news about a first-generation vaccine. Perhaps the first generation had too many drawbacks and had been entirely recalled and redeveloped.

“Dr. Sun said that once the third-generation vaccine is developed, it’ll definitely be covered by health insurance. There won’t be anyone called a ‘patient’ anymore after that.” The nurse’s tone carried a certain conviction when she said this. “Just wait. Everything will get better eventually.”

Everything will get better eventually. It sounded like a completely useless platitude.

He refolded the note. After a moment’s hesitation, he frowned, and using the pretense of blowing his nose, swallowed the note. Doing something like that in a bathroom made him feel psychologically nauseous.

After swallowing it, he stood up, pressed the flush button, then went to the sink. After a quick wash, he walked out of the washroom and saw Hyena and Dry Wood standing by the wall, seemingly waiting for him.

Above the wall they were leaning against, a black, round surveillance camera stared coldly at their area.

Liu Xu nodded, walked over to them, shaking the water off his hands. “What’s for lunch?”

Hyena rubbed his stomach and sighed. “It’s Wednesday today. I think it’s shredded pork with garlic sprouts and tomato egg drop soup?”

“Garlic sprouts with garlic sprouts, and tomato soup,” Dry Wood corrected his words.

“And tonight is lotus root stir-fried with beef and cabbage soup,” Hyena spread his hands. “I heard in a couple of days, everyone’s going to make dumplings together? Since it’s almost the winter solstice.”

“Lotus root stir-fried with lotus root, and dishwater,” Liu Xu sighed, rubbing his temple. “Making dumplings—they’re not seriously going to make us watch the Spring Festival Gala too, are they?”

“There will be a Spring Festival Gala,” Hyena shook his head. “And a talent show. Participating patients can get apples and mooncakes.”

“Mooncakes…” Dry Wood paused, his tone suspicious. “Don’t tell me they’re the leftover unsold Mid-Autumn Festival mooncakes?”

“Remove the words ‘don’t tell me.’ Yes, they are stale mooncakes,” Liu Xu sighed. “Nothing to complain about there, really. They’re free, after all. Can’t be too picky about free stuff, right?”

“I’d rather they charged money,” Hyena muttered.

“Don’t tell me you think that if they charged and you had no money, you wouldn’t have to come in here?” Liu Xu glanced at him. “They’d give you a loan, and you could just pay it back slowly.”

“That operation sounds kinda familiar,” Hyena said suspiciously.

“Capital is too evil,” Dry Wood lamented. They walked down the stairs and saw the cafeteria ahead. “Ah, so detestable.”

“Too detestable,” Hyena nodded.

The three of them fell silent.

“I gotta say, does everyone have to force small talk like this?” Liu Xu lowered his voice. “Haven’t you guys ever made friends? What do you normally talk about?”

This was indeed what they had initially agreed upon: to chat casually, to act like they had adapted to life here, and then wait for an opportunity. But the problem was, Hyena and Dry Wood seemed to have a fundamental misunderstanding of what ‘casual chat’ meant. The things they said couldn’t exactly be called forced, but they were definitely not natural. At this rate, even an idiot could tell there was something weighing on their minds.

“We’d normally chat about some… other topics,” Hyena picked up his meal tray, his words hesitant. “Things probably not suitable to discuss here.”

Liu Xu understood his implication. His tone was a bit speechless. “Are you guys just some high schoolers who only know how to debate politics online?”

“I wish I was just a high schooler who only knows how to debate politics online,” Hyena said in a low voice. “What do you guys usually talk about?”

“Whatever comes to mind. Like… do you guys play video games?” Liu Xu raised an eyebrow and asked.

They joined the line for the cafeteria. The number of patients in Pingjiang was greater than Liu Xu had imagined. Almost ninety percent of the patients were quite young, ranging from sixteen to twenty-six years old. So instead of a hospital cafeteria, it felt more like a school cafeteria.

They chatted loudly in scattered clusters, the voices merging into a noisy din. Young people always adapt quickly. They had rapidly accepted the fact that they needed to live and receive treatment here twenty-four hours a day. Honestly, the conditions here weren’t that hard to accept. The schedule wasn’t strict; they got room and board; there were eight hours of labor time total, split between morning and afternoon. Although they couldn’t access cell phones, the network, or the outside world, there were televisions and books to borrow. When you thought about it another way, it really wasn’t much different from working in a factory. Just no salary.

It had already been four days. Many of the young patients’ initial strong resistance had gradually eased. A considerable number now felt the treatment here was quite good, at least much better than their lives outside.

“I played a little CS, on the computer in middle school IT class,” Hyena said. Dry Wood beside him also nodded; it seemed they were in the same boat.

“What about basketball? Soccer?”

“I know a little ping-pong and badminton,” Hyena said. Dry Wood beside him nodded again.

Liu Xu felt a bit helpless. He suddenly realized that his self-proclaimed social skills weren’t much use here. His past social interactions had basically been a three-step process: video games, sports, politics. Now politics couldn’t be discussed, and the other two had no interest in sports or games. It was as if every viable topic had been completely blocked off. Even talking about their past schooling was a minefield. He still remembered Dry Wood’s expression when he’d brought up the “Adult College Entrance Exam Prep Group.” There was clearly a nerve there; stepping on it could easily set something off.

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help wanting to sigh. Dry Wood and Hyena were clearly the standard study machines. Their elementary and middle school years were probably spent like Xu Yan, drilling problems twenty-four hours a day, hoping to change their lives through it. Liu Xu recalled what Dry Wood had said in that gloomy tone: “We did pass the high school entrance exams.” The implication was that they had gotten into high school, and then their grades had been swapped? Or was there some other reason they couldn’t continue attending high school?

But whatever the reason, Liu Xu could somewhat understand why Dry Wood and Hyena harbored such intense resentment. Not everyone could docilely accept their meticulously planned life being turned upside down overnight in a way that couldn’t be defied.

He coughed lightly, racking his brains, trying to find a suitable topic to continue. Just as he was pondering, he suddenly heard an unfamiliar voice come over the cafeteria’s PA system.

The voice belonged to a somewhat nervous young man; his tone was urgent. “Everyone get down! Get down if you don’t want to get hurt! Ten seconds left! Ten, nine…”

Liu Xu’s first reaction was to scan the area around him, only to find that nearly everyone in the line looked confused. A few people, however, reacted rather quickly, immediately pulling those beside them down to the ground. Though baffled, Liu Xu did as the male voice instructed, bending down and pressing himself flat against the floor.

When the count reached one, what would happen? An explosion? An attack? Or some new change? Liu Xu’s thoughts raced.