Chapter Twenty-Three: The Sound of Gunfire

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Gunshot

When Bai Ze and Wu Zhengke arrived at Yaren Hospital, it was already past eight o’clock. The sky had grown completely dark, and with the weather turning colder, there were far fewer pedestrians on the roads. Wu Zhengke stepped out of the car, straightened his clothes, glanced up at the pitch-black night, and strode ahead towards the hospital.

On the third floor of the hospital, outside Director Wu’s ward, two members of Squad Two stood guard. There were also hidden sentries stationed in the corridor. When they saw Wu Zhengke and Bai Ze approaching, they hurried to salute.

“Where’s Gao Debiao? What’s he up to?” Wu Zhengke waved his hand lightly, peering through the glass at the empty ward, where only Director Wu lay, and spoke with a hint of dissatisfaction.

“Captain, after the squad leader called you earlier, he went out for dinner. He should be back soon,” one of the squad members replied uncertainly, swallowing any further explanation as he saw Wu Zhengke’s displeased expression.

“Hmph,” Wu Zhengke snorted coldly and pushed the door open to enter the ward.

On the bed, Director Wu had already regained consciousness, though his mind remained clouded. Yet, when Wu Zhengke and Bai Ze walked in, he recognized them immediately. Wu Zhengke, the head of the Action Team, was familiar to him. As for Bai Ze, the man who had nearly ended his life—how could he ever forget? If not for this young man, he might have escaped by now.

But before Wu Zhengke could ask anything, the ward door opened again. Shen Guohua walked in. Upon seeing Bai Ze, he paused for a moment, surprised to encounter him here. Yet he offered no greeting, nor did Bai Ze; the two acted as if strangers.

After checking Director Wu’s condition, Shen Guohua raised his head and said, “The patient’s body is still quite weak, so he mustn’t experience any excessive emotional disturbance.”

“Understood, now go,” Wu Zhengke replied dismissively with a wave of his hand.

Shen Guohua cast a final glance at Bai Ze and then departed.

Inside the ward, Wu Zhengke sneered, saying nothing further. He reached out and pressed his right thumb against Director Wu’s neck—precisely where Bai Ze had shot him before. The wound, once neatly bandaged, now oozed bright red blood.

A mournful groan escaped Director Wu’s lips. Pain etched itself deep into his pale face as agony radiated from the wound, sending tremors through his frail body. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he could muster no resistance against Wu Zhengke’s actions. His eyes widened, throat mumbling unintelligible sounds as his powerless body twisted feebly.

Bai Ze watched coldly from the side. Only when Director Wu seemed about to lose consciousness did he calmly remind, “Captain, I doubt Director Wu can speak. I shot through his windpipe—he can hardly manage a word.”

“Oh, I forgot,” Wu Zhengke replied, feigning annoyance. “I thought I’d caught another Red Party member immune to bullets and blades.” As he spoke, he withdrew his thumb, wiping the blood from his fingers onto the white bedsheet.

The moment Wu Zhengke released his hand, Director Wu gasped for air, the pain and suffocation vanishing suddenly. His heavy breathing echoed sharply through the room. Wu Zhengke was in no hurry; he waited for Director Wu to settle, then spoke: “If you can’t talk, then write. Xiao Bai, bring paper and pen.”

Bai Ze nodded, opened the bedside cabinet, and handed paper and a pen to Wu Zhengke. But Bai Ze felt no concern about whether Director Wu would write out his connection to the Party Affairs Office; back at the print works, he hadn’t finished him off with another shot. Instead, he had stomped heavily on Director Wu’s right hand, even hearing the bones shatter. In other words, even if Director Wu survived, he was now useless—unable to speak, unable to write.

This was exactly what Bai Ze intended: to claim the credit for capturing a Red Party agent, yet prevent the Party Affairs Office mole from betraying the organization. In the circumstances, it was the only course. Though it carried risks, as long as he remained cautious and handled things properly, everything would stay under his control. In fact, Bai Ze even planned to eliminate Director Wu quietly in the future.

“Write,” Wu Zhengke demanded roughly, grabbing Director Wu by the collar and hauling him upright, placing the paper and pen in front of him.

“Mmm... I...” Director Wu, trembling and barely coherent, drew his right hand from beneath the covers. It was wrapped thickly in layers of gauze. He mechanically reached for the pen, but it slipped from his grasp immediately. He tried several times, each attempt ending in failure.

“Useless,” Wu Zhengke cursed, then seized Director Wu’s right hand and, ignoring his agonized moans, swiftly tore away the gauze to reveal the shattered limb.

Wu Zhengke’s face darkened as he looked at the ruined hand. He had not expected things to turn out this way; he thought he had caught a key Red Party figure, only to find a cripple. The ward fell silent.

Bai Ze watched quietly, doing nothing.

Bang!

A sharp gunshot shattered the quiet of the ward. Before Bai Ze could react, the door burst open.

“Captain, the gendarmes outside the hospital have been attacked by unidentified individuals. Both sides have opened fire. Should we take action?” Two members of Squad Two strode in and reported to Wu Zhengke.

“It must be those peasants making a move. Have our people stay in the corridor; don’t bother with what’s happening outside—the gendarmes are on guard. Those peasants won’t break in so easily,” Wu Zhengke replied coldly. “Perfect. I can use this cripple to teach those Red Party fools a lesson.”

The two squad members withdrew, while Bai Ze inwardly worried about the Red Party members outside. Due to poor communication, the underground organization had no idea Director Wu was a mole and was now risking a reckless assault.

Outside Yaren Hospital.

Guo Xiaofei hadn’t planned on a direct assault, but unforeseen circumstances forced his hand. Their equipment was inferior, but their numbers were greater, while the gendarmes only had two squads tasked with guarding the hospital. For a moment, Guo Xiaofei’s firepower even pressed the gendarmes back.

“Old Guo, this can’t go on. Fighting so fiercely here, the enemy will definitely respond. Once reinforcements arrive, we won’t be able to hold out with so few men,” Zhou Shan said anxiously.

“Here’s the plan: you stay outside to cover us. I’ll take a few agile brothers and sneak into the hospital. We’ve only got about twenty minutes—make it count,” Guo Xiaofei replied thoughtfully, then led his men away.