Chapter 90: Big Dog Faints

The one who was injured was Shen Wanqing, but the one crying the hardest was Lu Zhixia.

As Shen Wanqing was wheeled inside, Lu Zhixia stood outside the door, clawing at it and sobbing in utter heartbreak.

The family members waiting for their loved ones in the emergency room thought someone had died. They came over, meaning to offer a few words of comfort, only to overhear the man in the black suit beside her urge: “Don’t cry yet. She should be out of mortal danger. Let’s see what the doctor says.”

The well-meaning family swallowed their condolences and quietly backed away.

The bodyguards probably never imagined that this usually cheerful, optimistic woman—who seemed a little wild but tamed—could be so raw and emotional.

This was also the first time anyone besides her four bodyguards had accompanied Shen Wanqing to the hospital.

The nurse emerged shortly after and asked the family to settle the bill.

Lu Zhixia seized the moment to ask about Shen Wanqing’s condition. Understanding her anxiety, the nurse reassured her: “The doctor’s with her now. Don’t worry.”

One of the bodyguards stepped forward to handle it, but Lu Zhixia blocked him. Her eyes red and brimming, she declared, “I’m family.”

She was like some aggrieved concubine from the palace dramas, desperate for an official title. The bodyguard relented and shoved the card into her hands.

After paying, Lu Zhixia spotted a crowd blocking the entrance, the cries echoing like thunder.

Her heart clenched with worry for Shen Wanqing when a hoarse scream pierced through: “Please, someone help us!”

Lu Zhixia shoved her way into the throng. There was a woman cradling a figure drenched in blood. Her mind went blank with a deafening buzz.

That familiar wave of dizziness and nausea hit her hard. Lu Zhixia turned her head away as the woman’s wails tore at her heart.

She overheard murmurs nearby: “I heard it’s contagious.”

“But she’s dying—look at all that blood.”

“It might not be.”

“There’s still a risk. Who’d dare?”

Lu Zhixia felt like she was staring at a nightmare from her past. The blood-soaked body paralyzed her with terror, rooting her to the spot.

Then she snapped out of it. She pushed through the crowd, scooped up the battered figure in her arms. The woman stared up at her with red, despairing eyes.

Lu Zhixia averted her gaze and bolted toward the emergency room. A doctor in full protective gear met her head-on, pointing to the side and shouting, “Over here! This way!”

She held her breath as much as she could, kept her eyes averted, and tried to ignore the sticky warmth coating her arms and palms.

Blood… She couldn’t let herself think it. Palpitations gripped her chest; her steps grew heavy. Dizziness and nausea threw off her balance, turning her path into a zigzag.

Somehow the distance stretched on forever. Lu Zhixia tilted her head back and ran, sweat beading cold on her skin, her breaths coming thicker and thicker. In her mind, she groaned: Where the hell is the emergency room?

At last, as vertigo threatened to topple her, she heard the doctor call out!

Her vision blurred, but she bit her tongue hard, the sharp pain anchoring her last shred of awareness.

Through the haze, she made out the shape of a bed. She lurched forward and all but flung the injured person onto it before collapsing to her knees beside them.

Chaos erupted around her—shouts and shuffling feet—while harsh fluorescent lights swung dizzily overhead.

In her delirium, strange faces loomed like messengers from hell, circling her as she teetered on the brink.

Lu Zhixia fought the blackout. She had something crucial to remember. With her fading reason clawing back, it hit her: Shen Wanqing!

Her world dissolved into fog, but she struggled to rise. Some infernal force dragged her down.

Her soul plummeted; her body weighed a thousand pounds. Panic brought tears to her eyes.

She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but all that escaped was a feeble mosquito-like hum.

In the encroaching darkness, she howled silently: Let me go! I have to find Shen Wanqing!

In the end, the devil seized her, pinning her to hell’s judgment seat. She couldn’t move.

Despair washed over Lu Zhixia. Life had a way of doing this—pouring every ounce of strength into the fight, only to fall short.

Time lost all meaning as her consciousness drifted in limbo.

Something pricked her skin—a needle, sharp and stinging. She instinctively curled up to shield herself.

Still, something held her fast. She felt a cool liquid seeping into her veins.

The world sharpened. The clamor faded into a profound quiet, broken only by someone’s ragged breathing.

Lu Zhixia listened as the breaths evened out. Hands fussed over her; her skin felt cool, laced with the sharp tang of alcohol.

Light pierced the void from afar, drawing nearer.

She pried her eyes open. The steadying breaths were her own.

The alcohol scent came from someone wiping down her arm.

Squinting against the glare of white, a shadow fell across her face. A voice asked, “How are you feeling? Can you hear me?”

She tried to speak, but her mouth only twitched uselessly.

It was like a newborn’s first cry—demanding every last drop of strength.

Lu Zhixia struggled to pry her mouth open and finally managed a sound: “Mm.”

A buzzing filled her ears afterward—probably people talking. She could hear them, but their words were indistinct.

The racket grated on her ears like some infernal cacophony, irritating her to no end. Her drifting consciousness slowly pulled back into her body.

The voices around her sharpened into focus. Someone said, “She should be about done.”

“What a good soul—fainting at the sight of blood but still pitching in to help.”

“Draw some blood from her later and have her stick around in the room for two hours until the results come back.”

“The name she called out—was that a family member?”

“Couldn’t make it out. Sounded like ‘Qing’ or something.”

…

It took Lu Zhixia a few minutes to piece it together.

She shot upright in bed, startling the person at her side.

Her head still swam with dizziness as she swung her legs off the bed to leave, but someone in protective gear blocked her path and explained what was going on.

In short, she’d helped save a life earlier, but the patient’s blood carried a nasty pathogen that could cling to human skin. Any open wound, and you’d be infected.

“We need to run a blood test on you now,” the doctor said. “Stay put for two hours, and if it comes back clean, you’re free to go.” She sounded apologetic. “Do you have any family we can contact?”

Lu Zhixia sat there without a word for the longest time.

The doctor called her name, snapping her back to the present. “No need to call my family,” she said.

“Then just settle the medical fees before you leave, all right?”

“Okay.”

Lu Zhixia patted down her pockets—her phone was missing. She glanced around.

“Your phone’s right here,” the nurse said, handing it over. “It must’ve tumbled out when you collapsed. Looks like the fall shut it down.”

She tried powering it on, but nothing. Lu Zhixia sniffled. The doctor picked up on it right away and soothed her. “Hey, no need to be scared. Everything’s fine. No crying now.”

She lifted her head and blinked. Tears trailed down her cheeks.

Even someone as strikingly beautiful as her made crying look good. The nurse’s heart melted. “Aw, don’t cry. We’re right here with you.”

“I need to go to the emergency room,” Lu Zhixia said, her voice small and aggrieved as she stared at the floor.

She explained herself, and the nurse jumped in. “No tears—I’ll go check the ER for you.”

While the nurse was out scouting, the doctor drew Lu Zhixia’s blood and passed the vial to another nurse for the lab.

Lu Zhixia perched on the edge of the bed. The doctor thanked her on behalf of the patient’s family. “We owe you big time today. A little longer, and it could’ve been fatal.”

She stayed quiet. The doctor dragged over a chair and sat across from her. “Did you know you have a blood phobia?”

She nodded. She murmured in acknowledgment, her tone softening further. “Have you ever had any proper treatment for it?”

She shook her head. “Mind if I ask—is it something you were born with?”

She fell silent again, which in a way answered her question: no, it was acquired.

“How many times has it knocked you out cold like this?” Her voice stayed gentle, coaxing patiently. “You can tell me. I’m a doctor too—might have some better tips for handling it, you know?”

Lu Zhixia kept her eyes down and licked her lips. “Third time.”

“Would you consider getting treatment?” she urged. “It’s not some intractable condition. With the right cooperation, the success rate is excellent.”

She clammed up once more. She ventured, “Does a little blood set you off, or only when it’s a lot?”

“Only a lot of blood.” Her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. “I don’t need treatment. I’m fine day-to-day.”

She wanted her family’s contact info, but she wouldn’t budge.

The nurse hurried back soon enough. “No Shen Wanqing in the ER. They probably moved her to a ward after patching her up. I got someone to check—I’ll let you know shortly.”

Lu Zhixia sat in the room after that, not saying another word to the doctor.

She stepped out and beckoned the nurse over, murmuring low, “When the two hours are up, go up with her on the sly. Family or friend, doesn’t matter—lay it out straight for them. This girl’s blood phobia is serious and needs attention. I’m worried it’s from some past trauma. Left unchecked, it could turn into a full-blown psychological disorder.”

Lu Zhixia touched her forehead. It was still clammy and cold.

A faint stinging prickled all over her skin, like the ache of a fever where everything hurt to prod.

The sensation was all too familiar. It hit every time she came to after fainting from blood.

A moment later, the nurse handed her the phone along with a slip of paper.

The number 609 was scrawled on it. The nurse leaned in quickly. “Ward number. I’ll be right outside—holler if you need me.”

Lu Zhixia clutched the note tight. To kill time while she waited, she battled with her phone.

She shook it, slammed it around, even bashed the edge against the table. No dice—the thing was deader than dead.

With a sigh, she leaned against the wall to rest.

The nurse popped in with a bottle of water, which Lu Zhixia thanked her for profusely.

The nurse ducked out again, then returned to deliver the verdict: “Results are clean. You’re good to go.”

“However, if something like this happens again, try not to act on impulse. It can be quite dangerous if it spreads,” the nurse advised kindly. Lu Zhixia asked how to tell them apart, and after a moment’s thought, the nurse replied, “Well, their blood is darker and thicker. You probably wouldn’t notice.”

Indeed, Lu Zhixia hadn’t paid it any mind at all. “Can I go now?” she asked.

Lu Zhixia hurried straight to room 609. She knocked on the door, but no one answered, so she pushed it open. Her heart sank.

A cluster of machines beeped at the bedside, with countless IV drips feeding fluids through tubes into the patient’s body. Tears welled up in Lu Zhixia’s eyes. Big Sister was hurt so badly!

Holding back her sobs, she shuffled heavily to the bedside and muttered, “Why’s the blanket pulled up so high?”

She slowly tugged the blanket down and discovered that Shen Wanqing’s long hair was gone too. With a cry, she burst into tears. “Wahhh…”

“Who are you?” a puzzled voice suddenly asked from behind her.

Lu Zhixia turned, her eyes blurry with tears as she stared at the stranger.

They both froze. “Isn’t this Shen Wanqing’s room?” Lu Zhixia asked.

“This is my spouse’s room.”

Lu Zhixia fished the note out of her pocket. Room 906. Realization dawned, and she apologized profusely, wiping away her tears as she dashed upstairs.

At the door to 906 stood the familiar bodyguards. Lu Zhixia felt tears pricking her eyes again. This time she’d gotten the right room, hadn’t she?

She rushed to the door, but the bodyguards blocked her way. “Sorry,” one said. “You can’t go in right now.”