6: The Walking Dead

She would even, on very rare occasions, be struck by a flicker of resentment.

Why could Feng Jin-yan possibly believe such a deception?

He clearly should have known just how much she loved him...

-

The night grew heavy. Ye Xiang-wan curled up on the bed, staring blankly as the sky darkened, until she vaguely heard the grandfather clock in the living room chime once, its lonely echo rippling through the vast space.

It was midnight... No one had called her for dinner. It was no wonder her stomach ached so severely that she lacked the strength to even rise, yet Ye Xiang-wan did not get up; she simply endured the pain and remained curled on the bed.

For her, such days felt like years.

A month later, Ye Xiang-wan was awakened by her alarm clock just as she had been every day, though her body was now so exhausted that her internal clock had ceased to function.

She rolled over slowly, staring at the ceiling for several minutes before she could force herself to peel away from the bed. Burying her face in her palms, she found it hard to believe she had actually endured for a month.

She splashed her face with cold water to force herself awake and ate a meager breakfast while feeling hollow with hunger. She noticed that outside the window, where the sky had not yet fully lightened, the first snow of the year was falling.

Looking at the coat Feng Jin-yan had tossed her like an act of charity, she felt a sharp, unidentifiable pain in her body, though she had long since grown accustomed to it.

Feng Jin-yan provided her with a set of clothes every day, but in this weather, the set she wore today was barely better than wearing nothing at all.

Under the nearly pitying gaze of Uncle Sun, Ye Xiang-wan walked into the swirling snow in thin shoes.

Snowflakes landed on her hair, melting one after another into ice water that slid over her brow and into her eyes, stinging her vision until it blurred.

With every step, she could almost hear her frozen joints emitting faint sounds like cracking ice. As Ye Xiang-wan gazed at the vast, empty, white world before her, she suddenly thought: If she were to collapse here, by the time someone discovered her, would she already be a corpse?

Feng Jin-yan, who among us is truly the cold-blooded one?

By the time she had trekked through the snowy expanse to the hospital entrance, she had just stepped out of the car when she was suddenly bumped by something rushing toward her. The impact was not heavy, but due to her poor physical condition, she stumbled back several steps, only stopping when her back hit the car door.

"Ah! I'm sorry, sister!"

A crisp, clear voice rang out.

Ye Xiang-wan looked down and saw a boy wearing a small red cotton-padded jacket. His bright, dark eyes, like those of a young deer, looked at her with concern.

"It’s alright."

She stood up straight, feeling a wave of desolation in her heart. Even a stranger, a child, knew how to show her concern, yet Feng Jin-yan...

She shook her head, refusing to dwell on such meaningless thoughts, and lifted her feet to head into the hospital.

"Hey, sister!"

The little boy suddenly called out to her: "This is for you."

It was a hand warmer with a SpongeBob SquarePants pattern, smiling at her in a comical way.

"...No, you don't have to. You keep it."

Ye Xiang-wan felt a bit awkward; she had never been good at handling people who were so warm toward her, especially a child.

"Sister, please take it, I have more."

As he spoke, the little boy pulled a Patrick Star warmer from his other pocket and shook it happily: "Sister, you’re wearing so little, I feel cold just looking at you."

Ye Xiang-wan stared at his pure gaze for a long moment, feeling moved. Once, the way Feng Jin-yan looked at her was just like this—clear, burning, and caring...

"...Thank you."

She reached out to take the warmer and offered a faint smile.

"Wow, sister, you look so beautiful when you smile!"

The little boy flashed a grin, then turned and ran off.

Ye Xiang-wan stood frozen for a moment before walking into the hospital.

The emergency room hadn't been particularly busy today, but at noon, a multi-vehicle pileup occurred nearby involving a large truck, and the situation was dire.

The sirens wailed incessantly, bringing in a stream of critically injured patients. Lives were slipping away with every passing second, and every doctor was exerting every ounce of strength, fighting desperately to pull people back from the clutches of death.

The emergency hall was in total chaos. Everyone in a white coat was running. Ye Xiang-wan was constantly helping to push patients into the operating rooms, her hands and clothes smeared with fresh blood. Suddenly, she heard a sharp, shrill voice piercing through the space filled with wails.

That hysterical despair sent a shiver of fear crawling up Ye Xiang-wan's spine.

"Doctor! Doctor!!!"

She rushed over immediately. As she pushed through the crowd, her eyes met a sight of bright red. The small body, wearing the same cotton jacket she had seen that morning, lay motionless in the arms of a woman whose face was twisted in agony. His black hair was damp and matted against his pale face, and his chest showed no rise or fall.

"My son has congenital heart disease! Doctor, please, save him!"

Ye Xiang-wan’s mind went blank. She took the boy from her and moved with the fastest speed she had ever mustered to place him in the emergency room.

"Wake up! Wake up! Can you hear me?"

She leaned over the boy's ear and shouted, but there was no response. The boy had slipped into a deep coma; she couldn't even find a pulse in his carotid artery.

She performed intubation and set up the ventilator. Because of the mass casualty incident, staff were in short supply, and she was the only doctor there. Amidst the persistent beeping of the monitors, she buried her head in performing CPR. Every muscle in her body was taut, and sweat from her forehead dripped down her cheeks, yet the boy’s heart showed no signs of movement.

Time ticked away. She could no longer feel the noise surrounding her; she could only feel the gentle warmth radiating from the clothes pressed against her stomach—the SpongeBob hand warmer.

Sweat stung her eyes, but she had no time to wipe it away. She grabbed the defibrillator, and the boy's body jolted with the electric shock, looking like a broken, lifeless doll.

"Please, don't die. Please, I beg you, wake up! Please!"

Ye Xiang-wan whispered, then threw the device aside. She climbed onto the bed and began to press on the boy's heart tirelessly. She had just seen him!

He was just smiling at her!

Why is this happening?

How could this be?

When her grandmother was driven to her death by those people, she had seen it, she had felt the pain, and she thought she would never be afraid again. But why?

Why was this so despairingly unacceptable?

She couldn't save him. Everything she did was in vain. The child who was smiling at her just this morning was now dying before her eyes, and she was utterly powerless.

No!

It cannot be!

Ye Xiang-wan's eyes were bloodshot. Her remaining reason told her that the boy was already gone; the temperature beneath her palms had clearly gone cold. But she dared not look at his pupils; she simply continued to press frantically, with all her remaining strength, against that heart that would never beat again.

"Xiang-wan... stop."

She vaguely heard someone say this. She had no strength left, yet her body mechanically repeated the meaningless motion.