Chapter 111

Chapter 111

Director Xu’s pace was unhurried but steady. As she crossed the lobby, the survivors busy at work looked up one after another, their gazes following her retreating figure with absolute trust.

“This building has six floors,” the Director explained as she walked. “The first floor is the common area. We eat, hold activities, and assign tasks here. Everyone lives on the second floor.”

She paused, then continued, “As for the other floors, some are used for storage and some still contain patient wards. Please don’t wander around without permission.”

Patient wards.

Qingshui took note of the phrase.

Without looking back, the Director climbed the stairs and led them to the second floor.

There was another enormous hall upstairs, but this one was deserted. Tightly shut doors lined both sides. None had windows, only numbers: 01, 02, 03… all the way to the end of the corridor.

“These are the patients’ rooms,” the Director said, slowing her pace. “Try not to get too close.”

Wen Lianfeng swept her gaze over the numbers and suddenly asked, “How many patients are there?”

“A dozen or so.” The Director did not turn around. “A lot of them died when the apocalypse began. The ones left are all…”

“Quiet.”

She kept walking.

“I’ll show you.”

She stopped in front of one door and wrapped her hand around the knob before glancing back at the three women.

“Don’t make too much noise. They startle easily.”

She pushed the door open.

The room was darker than the corridor, with only a small window admitting a scant amount of light. Several beds stood against the wall. The room was not large, but it looked very tidy.

Several figures in hospital gowns sat on the beds.

Their faces were utterly expressionless, their eyes vacant and unfocused.

Some sat with their mouths slightly open, while others repeated the same motion over and over. A middle-aged woman sat on the bed closest to the window, cradling a worn cloth doll and gently brushing its hair, stroke by stroke. Her movements were focused and tender, as if the doll were a real baby.

The Director smiled faintly, then quietly backed out.

Qingshui, Wen Lianfeng, and Chu Jingchu said nothing. They simply followed the Director and Xu Wenlie farther down the corridor. Just as they were nearing the end, the sound of crying suddenly reached them.

It was faint, but unmistakable, coming from one of the rooms ahead.

It was not loud wailing, but stifled sobs, like a child struggling desperately while someone clamped a hand over their mouth.

The Director stopped dead.

Qingshui saw her back stiffen instantly. Her relaxed posture vanished, replaced by sudden, taut vigilance.

The Director did not look back. She merely quickened her pace. Xu Wenlie followed close behind, her expression changing as well.

The door was ajar. The Director shoved it open.

Inside the spacious room, two women had a patient by the collar.

The patient wore the same hospital gown as the others and was so thin she was little more than skin and bone. The two burly women held her between them. Her face had turned scarlet, and tears and snot smeared her cheeks. A hand covered her mouth, leaving her able to make only broken, muffled whimpers.

Nearby, a woman in a white coat was holding a hand to her face. Blood stained the corner of her mouth.

It looked as though she had been hit.

The instant the Director appeared in the doorway, the air in the entire room seemed to freeze.

Both women turned around at once.

One woman’s expression flickered when she saw the Director, but she quickly regained an air of self-righteousness. She released the patient’s collar, shoved her frail body to the floor like a discarded rag, and dusted off her hands.

The patient curled into a ball on the floor, her entire body trembling as she cried.

“Oh, Director, you’re here.” The woman gave her a broad grin. “Perfect. Come take a look at your precious patient. Just now, I-”

She never got to finish.

The Director had already crossed the room. Without the slightest hesitation, she pulled a handgun from her pocket and pressed it to the woman’s head.

The woman’s smile froze.

The other woman reacted faster. She immediately let go, raised both hands, and backed away, shouting, “It wasn’t me! It was her! She started it!”

The Director said nothing.

She merely stared at the woman before her. The smile that had curved her lips moments ago had vanished completely. In its place was a face devoid of expression and a pair of terrifyingly black eyes.

Then the Director spoke.

She enunciated each word with excruciating slowness. Her voice was not loud, yet it filled everyone with inexplicable dread.

“Who. Gave. You. Permission. To. Touch. Them?”

The woman’s pupils contracted.

She had seemed somewhat guilty at first, but with so many people watching, her expression began to shift. The guilt gradually faded, replaced by righteous indignation.

“I didn’t even do anything!” she shouted. “I was just teaching her a lesson! What, they eat our food and drink our water, but we’re not even allowed to say anything?”

She stared at the Director, a trace of defiance flashing through her eyes.

“Go on, bitch. Shoot me.” She leaned forward until her forehead pressed against the muzzle. “Kill me. If I die, who’s going to find supplies for you? Who’s going to risk their life out there? Your precious patients?”

The Director said, “Wenlie.”

Xu Wenlie stepped forward and raised her hand.

Smack!

The resounding slap sent the woman stumbling sideways. She clutched her cheek and stared wide-eyed, just about to curse when several sets of footsteps came rushing toward the room.

Without looking back, the Director ordered, “Restrain her.”

Ye Que and Qi Zhi arrived behind them. Each seized one of the woman’s arms, and together they dragged her out of the room. Xu Wenlie and Li Chong restrained the other woman and escorted her out after them.
Several people had already gathered in the corridor outside, all survivors drawn by the commotion.

The woman was dragged into the center of the first-floor lobby.

Everyone who had been working there stopped what they were doing and moved back, clearing an open space around her.

The Director followed them in and stopped in front of the woman.

Thud.

The butt of her gun slammed into the woman’s forehead.

The sound was dull and heavy, striking the hearts of everyone present.

The woman screamed and clutched her forehead. Blood seeped between her fingers and ran down her cheek. She stared at the Director in disbelief, her eyes finally filling with fear.

“You-”

Thud.

A second blow.

It struck the exact same spot. The woman’s scream dissolved into sobs. She tried to retreat, but Qi Zhi and Ye Que held her firmly in place.

Thud.

A third blow.

The woman could no longer even cry. She merely trembled from head to toe, staring at the Director in abject terror.

At last, the Director stopped.

Gun in hand, she looked down at the woman. Blood ran down the woman’s face, gathered at her chin, and dripped onto the floor, one drop at a time.

The entire lobby was deathly silent.

Without betraying any emotion, Qingshui swept her gaze over the crowd.

Their expressions were revealing.

Some were blank. Some were unhappy with the Director. Others wore faint smiles.

But every face had one thing in common.

Obedience… born of a warning.

The Director finally smiled in satisfaction. She crouched down, seized the woman’s chin, and tilted up her blood-covered face.

“I told you,” the Director said softly, though every word carried clearly to everyone present, “the condition for staying here is that you do not abuse my patients.”

She released the woman’s chin and stood, looking down at her crumpled form.

“Having one more of you makes no difference. Having one fewer is no loss.”

Those words were meant for the woman, but they were also meant for everyone else.

A murmur of unrest rippled through the crowd.

Still, no one dared speak.

Until-

“Director.”

A voice came from the back of the crowd.

The survivors parted on their own, opening a path.

A heavily muscled woman stepped forward. She was not tall, but the definition of her muscles was visible even through her clothes. She made her way to the front of the crowd, stopped, and faced the Director.

“You confiscated all our guns, but you kept one for yourself.”

The Director’s expression did not change. She simply turned her head and fixed her gaze on the muscular woman’s face.

“You have a problem with that?”

The woman’s expression twitched. She clearly did, but she kept her temper in check.

Several seconds passed in silence.

Then she forced the corner of her mouth upward. “I wouldn’t dare. I just want to know if you’ve made up your mind.”

Her gaze traveled slowly over Qingshui and the other two before settling meaningfully on Qingshui.

And there it remained.

Qingshui felt the weight of her stare but neither flinched nor looked away. Her face expressionless, she met the woman’s eyes.

One second. Two. Three.

Something flickered in the woman’s eyes.

The Director suddenly tilted her head, breaking their silent confrontation.

“Wenlie.” Her voice remained soft, but everyone was listening. “Take them somewhere they can rest.”

Xu Wenlie released the limp woman, rose to her feet, and walked over to Qingshui’s group.

Her expression was cold, as frigid as ice, but her movements were brisk and decisive. She beckoned to the three women, then turned and walked away.

Qingshui followed behind her. They were taken to a secluded patient room on the second floor.

The room was small and rather bare, with three simple beds inside.

“You three can stay here.”

Xu Wenlie stood in the doorway. Her usual warmth had returned to her voice, though a trace of coldness lingered deep in her eyes.

The three women sat down without ceremony.

Xu Wenlie turned to leave, then stopped.

“Try not to wander around,” she said, sweeping her gaze over them. “This Psychiatric Hospital is huge. Please stay on the first and second floors. Someone will let you know when it’s time to eat. If you need anything, you can come to me or Ye Que.”

She paused, as though hesitating over something.

Then she turned, this time truly intending to leave.

“Wait.”

It was Wen Lianfeng. She mustered a polite smile.

“Do you have any spare clothes?”

Xu Wenlie replied, “We do. I’ll get some for you.”

Wen Lianfeng nodded and said quietly, “Thank you.”

Qingshui, Wen Lianfeng, and Chu Jingchu had barely lain down for a few minutes when Xu Wenlie pushed the door open and returned, carrying several pieces of clothing in her arms.

She set the clothes on one of the beds, along with three packets of compressed biscuits and half a bottle of water.

“These are for the three of you.”

Qingshui blinked.

“Thank you.”

Xu Wenlie smiled. When she did, the scar across her face tugged slightly, lending her a vivid, untamed air.

“You’re welcome,” she said, a rare touch of gentleness in her eyes. “Teach me sometime. That marksmanship of yours… You’re a hell of a shot.”

Qingshui replied, “Sure.”

Xu Wenlie nodded, turned, and left.

Her footsteps gradually receded down the corridor until they vanished entirely in the distance.

The room fell silent.

Qingshui looked down. Almost at the exact same moment as Wen Lianfeng and Chu Jingchu, she reached out and eagerly tore open one of the three packets of compressed biscuits.