Chapter 112
Chapter 112
As soon as Xu Wenlie left, all the strength drained out of Qingshui. Inch by inch, she tucked herself into bed and curled up, hiding completely beneath the thin covers.
The bed was soft, and the blankets were warm.
Compared to the floors, bridge underpasses, and pipes she had slept in before, this was pure luxury.
The warm blankets enveloped her ice-cold body, their heat slowly seeping into her.
But no amount of warmth could dispel the chill in Qingshui’s heart. Her limbs were wrapped in softness, yet her mind only grew more alert.
Despair surged over her like a tide, pressing down until she could barely breathe.
If it hadn’t been for those Madmen…
If there hadn’t been an ambush on the bridge…
Everyone else… could have slept in beds this comfortable too.
Two sets of slow, even breaths already sounded beside her. The others in the room had long since fallen asleep. Only she remained awake, staring into the darkness and mourning the dead.
Qingshui wanted to sleep too.
She was exhausted. Since the bridge, she had barely managed a single uninterrupted stretch of sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she slept lightly, and every time she drifted off, she woke with a start. Her body had long since reached its limit. Only something she couldn’t put into words was keeping her going.
But she couldn’t sleep.
Because that voice had returned.
“That’s right. Do you really deserve to sleep in this warm bed?”
The familiar voice sounded uncontrollably in her mind once more, cold and cutting.
“The bodies of your former teammates are still lying out there in the wilderness.”
“And you? You’re lying here, all warm and comfortable.”
“Do you deserve it?”
Qingshui did not react.
She simply listened to the abuse in silence, her eyes fixed on a blurry shadow on the ceiling, her body utterly still.
She listened to the voices talk. Listened to them curse her. Listened until they grew tired and stopped on their own.
She listened until she was weary, until her mind was completely exhausted. At last, she sank into darkness.
There were no dreams, only deep, unbroken sleep.
She had no idea how long she had been asleep when her body suddenly gave a small, involuntary twitch.
The next second, a sharp, bone-deep pain erupted from her ankle, instantly wrenching her back to reality.
“Ugh…”
Qingshui groaned and struggled upright, still half asleep.
It hurt.
She lowered her head and looked toward the source of the pain. Her ankle.
She had twisted it earlier when she jumped down onto the walkway. At the time, she had been too tense, her adrenaline still surging, to pay it any attention. Afterward, they had rescued her and gotten her into the vehicle, and she had been too busy fleeing for her life to examine it.
Now that her body had finally begun to relax, all the pain she had forcibly suppressed was surfacing bit by bit.
Her ankle was swollen.
Badly swollen.
Even through her sock, she could see the joint bulging, much thicker than it should have been.
The slightest touch sent stabbing pain through it.
Qingshui sighed and gently leaned back against the wall.
A proper night’s sleep had left her skin faintly damp with sweat, and she felt more comfortable than she had in a very long time.
After resting for two minutes, Qingshui moved her ankle and gave it a careful squeeze.
It probably wasn’t broken, but… she would likely need to stay off it for a couple of days.
Qingshui frowned. An ice pack would be best, if she could get one.
The room was very dark, lit only by a sliver of moonlight slipping through the narrow gap in the window. Wen Lianfeng and Chu Jingchu were still asleep, breathing evenly without stirring.
Using the wall for support, Qingshui slowly made her way to the door. She opened it and stepped into the corridor, intending to find Xu Wenlie.
She remembered Xu Wenlie saying that she could come to her if she needed anything.
As soon as she reached the first-floor lobby, she sensed a strange tension hanging in the air.
There were still people in the lobby, seven or eight of them scattered around the room. Some leaned against the walls, while others sat at tables.
The moment Qingshui entered, every one of them looked at her.
Their gazes were guarded and complicated. They landed on her, then darted away, reminding her of the meaningful look the muscular woman had given her earlier that day.
Then a mild-looking middle-aged woman smiled at her.
Qingshui ignored her and continued forward. After turning into the corridor, she spotted Xu Wenlie.
Xu Wenlie stood beside a door, speaking to someone. It was the woman who had been slapped earlier that day. The blood at the corner of her mouth had been wiped away, though some bruising remained.
Hearing Qingshui’s footsteps, they both turned their heads.
The woman’s eyes lit up the instant she saw Qingshui, and she smiled.
Qingshui gave her a nod, then turned directly to Xu Wenlie.
“I twisted my ankle,” she said. “Do you have any ice or medicine? I’ll trade you something of equal value afterward.”
Xu Wenlie frowned and looked down at Qingshui’s foot. Even through her shoe, it was obvious that the ankle was abnormally swollen.
Before Xu Wenlie could speak, the woman beside her smiled again.
“I’ll handle it.” She stepped closer and reached out. “Let me take a look. I used to work at a local clinic, so I have experience treating injuries like this-”
“No need.”
Xu Wenlie cut her off.
The woman froze, her hand suspended in midair.
“I’ll take her to Director Xu.” As she spoke, Xu Wenlie walked over to Qingshui and took her by the arm. “Let’s go.”
Supporting Qingshui, she walked away without looking back.
Behind them, the woman stared blankly at their retreating figures. Her mouth opened, but it was a long while before she finally murmured:
“Does the Director… know how to treat this?”
No one answered her.
Xu Wenlie led Qingshui to Director Xu’s quarters and knocked lightly three times.
The same gentle voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
They opened the door.
The Director was sitting beside the bed with a radio in her hands. When she saw them enter, she set it down and rose to her feet.
“What happened?”
Xu Wenlie gave her a brief explanation. After listening, the Director nodded and pointed to a nearby chair.
“Sit down.”
Qingshui took a seat.
The Director crouched in front of her. A woman in her fifties, the Director showed no concern for her status as she reached out to remove Qingshui’s shoe.
Qingshui instinctively drew back.
The Director looked up at her, her gaze perfectly calm.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Her voice was soft, but it held a strange, soothing power. Qingshui stopped moving.
The Director’s fingers slowly traced the contours of her ankle, testing every spot that might have been injured. Her touch was practiced and gentle, causing no additional pain.
Qingshui looked down at her.
The slightly wrinkled face held nothing but concentration.
“Wenlie,” the Director said softly without looking up. “Go get some ice.”
Xu Wenlie nodded and left.
Only Qingshui and the Director remained in the room.
Silence stretched between them for several seconds.
Then the Director spoke, her tone as casual as if they were making small talk.
“Yesterday must have frightened you.”
Qingshui paused before realizing she was referring to the confrontation.
“…It wasn’t too bad.”
The Director smiled, her fingers still gently probing the injury around Qingshui’s ankle.
“The woman who was beaten is named Ding Lan. She’s with the woman who confronted me afterward.” Her voice was even, betraying no emotion. “They want me to throw these patients out.”
Qingshui said nothing.
The Director looked up at her and continued, her voice so gentle that she might have been talking to herself.
“I’ve been here for over thirty years, and they want me to throw these children out.”
“What do you think?”
Think about what? About the situation? Or about what the Director should do?
Footsteps sounded outside. Xu Wenlie entered carrying a basin containing several pieces of ice wrapped in cloth.
The Director took them, carefully wrapped them in a towel, and gently pressed the bundle against Qingshui’s swollen ankle.
The cold instantly seeped through her skin, suppressing the hot, swollen ache.
“Hold it there,” the Director said.
Qingshui took the ice pack and pressed it to her ankle.
The Director did not stand. Still crouching before her, she looked up into Qingshui’s eyes.
“It couldn’t have been easy for you to make it here alive,” she said, her gaze unfathomable. “You’re stronger than most.”
Qingshui did not respond.
“But,” the Director continued as she rose and brushed nonexistent dust from her knees, “this place is too small to hold too many ‘strong’ people. Before, it was a choice between one or the other. But now…”
The Director suddenly smiled. “Now that there’s a new scale, the old weights can finally be set aside.”
“Thank you,” Qingshui said softly, still holding the ice pack against her ankle.
The Director waved her off. She had already returned to the bedside and picked up the radio again.
Xu Wenlie came over and helped Qingshui to her feet.
“Let’s go.”
Qingshui limped after her toward the door.
As she reached the doorway, she glanced back instinctively.
The Director did not look up. Her attention remained fixed on the object in her hands.
So quiet.
So gentle.
Qingshui stepped out into the corridor.
She declined Xu Wenlie’s offer to escort her back and made her way forward one step at a time. When she reached the stairwell, she suddenly stopped.
She could feel a gaze coming from somewhere, coiling around her like a snake.
Qingshui whipped her head around. Someone stood in the shadows at the far end of the corridor.
She could not make out a face, only a blurred silhouette. It stood perfectly still, silently watching her.
Qingshui’s back went rigid.
She did not move. Neither did the figure.
They stared at each other across the entire dim corridor, neither making a sound.
Then the silhouette slowly retreated. One step. Two. Three. It melted into the deeper darkness.
And vanished.
Qingshui stared into the darkness for a long time.
Then Wen Lianfeng’s voice came from behind her.
“What’s wrong?”
Qingshui turned to her with a slight frown. “Someone was watching me.” She paused. “No. They might have been watching all of us.”
Chu Jingchu stood in the doorway with her arms folded. “Come back inside first.”
Only then did Qingshui retreat into the room. The three women locked the door.
Chu Jingchu frowned deeply. “Did you see what they looked like?”
Qingshui shook her head.
Wen Lianfeng gave a knowing smile. “It seems we’ve upset a certain… balance.”
Under Qingshui’s and Chu Jingchu’s questioning gazes, Wen Lianfeng shrugged. “There’s no point dwelling on it. We might as well worry about when the Madmen outside will finally die out.”
“Let’s rest and recover for a few days. Then we’ll decide what to do next.”