There were people in the hospital, which was reassuring news.
Moreover, they were actively guiding the three survivors who had just escaped the overturned vehicle.
A red laser beam glided across the ground, charting a path for the two fleeing figures.
Initially, they expected the laser to lead them towards the main entrance of the emergency department building.
However, the beam abruptly veered, directing them towards the hospital’s flower garden instead.
“They want us to use the back entrance!”
Kong Cheng had evidently been to this hospital before.
Just then, a chorus of zombie roars erupted from the first-floor lobby of the emergency department.
It seemed clear that entering through the main hall was no longer an option.
As they hurried through the small garden, two beams of white light from flashlights struck them head-on.
“Run! Get inside!” a man yelled, simultaneously flinging something that arced with a trailing glow over Kong Cheng’s head.
A loud bang echoed, and the dark walls around them flared with a yellow light.
‘A Molotov cocktail, perhaps.’
‘Yes, a rather distinctive homemade weapon for a doctor.’
They burst through the metal door, which clanged shut behind them.
Two security guards immediately stepped forward, initially intending to physically search the newcomers, likely to check for injuries.
However, upon spotting the AK slung across Jing Lan’s back, they recoiled in surprise.
“Is anyone injured?” one of them cautiously inquired.
“No external injuries,” Jing Lan replied.
“This girl, however, fainted from fright.”
At that moment, a scramble of footsteps descended the stairs.
“Make way,” a voice commanded.
A middle-aged woman’s cold voice cut through the air.
Immediately afterward, a loud clang echoed from the metal door on the first floor, the one facing the main hall.
“Is this door still sturdy?”
“If not, we’ll need to barricade it with some tables.”
One of the security guards assured the woman, “Don’t worry, this door is sturdier than it looks.”
As he spoke, a group rounded the staircase and appeared before Jing Lan and his companions.
Leading them was a woman in a white coat, her face obscured by a mask, followed by two male doctors, also masked.
“Have their injuries been checked?” the female doctor asked.
A security guard stammered, glancing at Jing Lan.
‘He’s probably hinting that ‘this guy has a gun.”
The female doctor turned her gaze to Jing Lan, scrutinizing him from head to toe.
Even as her eyes settled on his face, she inexplicably asked, “What’s wrong with your foot?”
‘What sharp eyes,’ Jing Lan mused, silently clicking his tongue.
“An ankle injury,” Jing Lan promptly replied.
“I cut it on some metal debris when I fell.”
The female doctor turned her head. “Little Liu, remember to take him for a tetanus shot once we’re on the second floor.”
“And this girl, is she just scared?”
Jing Lan gently placed Little Ye down in a corner.
“Most likely,” he confirmed.
“She knows martial arts and has killed zombies before. Just now…”
“You encountered a Night Demon just now. You shouldn’t have been out at night…”
‘Night Demon?’ Jing Lan’s mind reeled.
‘Wasn’t that a monster from the zombie game *Dying Light*?’
‘Appearing only at night, it was incredibly dangerous.’
Little Liu, perhaps sensing Jing Lan’s confusion, chuckled.
“The name is indeed borrowed from *Dying Light*.”
“It refers to the mutated zombies you just encountered. We only started observing them the day before yesterday.”
“They become active around 6 PM, reaching peak activity between 11 PM and 3 AM, then suddenly vanish after 3 AM.”
“However, their numbers aren’t actually high. The one you met was only the sixth I’ve observed, and there might even be some duplicate sightings.”
“You were watching us earlier?” Jing Lan asked, surprised.
The female doctor interjected, “With all that commotion, how could we not notice?”
“We always have someone observing the surroundings with binoculars.”
The other male doctor accompanying them quickly examined Little Ye’s body, confirming she had no wounds.
Despite this, he seemed rather intrigued, observing her sleeping face with keen interest.
“If there’s nothing wrong, keep your distance,” the female doctor snapped, clearly annoyed.
“What’s there to see?”
“This girl… her hair seems to be naturally white, not dyed…”
The female doctor ignored him. “Let’s head up to the second floor first—Old Xu, you’d better double-check that iron gate’s security…”
****
On their way upstairs, the group exchanged information.
Jing Lan recounted the background of his group as clearly as possible, detailing the events of the previous night and their reason for being there now.
Naturally, there was no need to delve into the more gruesome details, such as Keke consuming human flesh or Lui Si bludgeoning someone to death.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t encounter a Night Demon in the parking lot, or you would’ve been in for it,” Little Liu remarked casually after hearing about the incident there.
“You probably don’t have many bullets left, do you?”
“I still have some, but I definitely need to conserve them.”
In truth, he only had four bullets remaining.
‘However, revealing that he was almost out of ammunition was not something he could casually disclose to strangers.’
The female doctor was Dr. Hui Chuyuan, the Chief Physician of the emergency department.
She explained that her original name was Hui Siguang, but her early career had been plagued by misfortune.
A fortune teller had claimed her name sounded like ‘will all die out’ (会死光), hindering her medical practice, so she changed it to Hui Chuyuan, which sounded like ‘will be discharged from hospital’ (会出院), a much more auspicious name.
Subsequently, her career flourished as she repeatedly brought patients back from the brink of death, leading to her steady ascent in position.
“But I’m getting sidetracked. What’s your name?” Dr. Hui asked.
Jing Lan answered truthfully.
“Is your mother Cun Li?”
“Huh?… Ah, yes. You must have noticed my surname…”
“She was a year below me in high school. Though we didn’t know each other personally back then, in those days, there weren’t many university students from this area.”
“Those who managed to leave would become local legends, their names and fates spreading by word of mouth, so everyone knew who married whom and where they went.”
“But speaking of which, is she no longer…?”
Jing Lan sighed softly. “In our current situation, there’s no taboo about discussing death.”
“Yes, she passed away in Guangqi when I was in high school.”
“Anyone brave enough to undertake field surveys is truly formidable,” Dr. Hui murmured, though Jing Lan sensed she was connecting it to something else entirely.
The casual conversation ended there.
Upon reaching the second floor of the emergency department, Jing Lan observed a considerable gathering of survivors.
Some appeared to be patients, while others seemed perfectly healthy, likely passersby who had fled here in desperation.
People sat wherever they could find space, without much concern for decorum.
Some were sleeping, while others stared out the windows, unsure if they were gazing at the moon or at the shuffling undead on the streets below.
Still others wandered aimlessly through the hospital corridors like zombies themselves, one even bumping into a deactivated self-service terminal and stumbling slightly.
Inside an office, Dr. Hui conducted a brief examination of Little Ye’s body.
Everything appeared normal, or rather—
“At any rate, I can’t find anything overtly wrong.”
“However, her muscles—both in her arms and legs—strike me as somewhat unusual. They aren’t bulky, yet they seem remarkably developed, a physique not typically achieved through regular fitness routines.”
“And her hair, well, that goes without saying. It’s clearly not albinism, nor is it likely premature graying. Human hair structure differs from animal fur; it’s very difficult for it to become so purely white without some yellowing or grayish tint, unless it’s dyed—are you absolutely certain it’s not dyed?”
The doctor had a habit of veering off-topic, though thankfully she always managed to rein herself back in.
‘Otherwise, she certainly wouldn’t be the Chief of the emergency department.’
“Let’s get back to the matter at hand. You have a police officer who suffered a gunshot wound, and you want us to send a doctor to treat him.”
“Of course, we’re willing to help, but the problem is clear: no one dares to leave the hospital before dawn.”
Jing Lan fell silent, his mind racing through every conceivable solution.
“Does the hospital still have ambulances?”
“I knew you’d ask that. We originally had three ambulances.”
“Between the 13th and 14th, we were still somewhat fervent, wanting to be heroes saving humanity.”
“We relentlessly took in survivors and dispatched ambulances to retrieve the wounded. Ultimately, none of the three vehicles returned.”
“An infected person infiltrated the crowd on the first floor; despite repeated inquiries, no one admitted it, and then in the middle of the night, the mutation occurred…”
The doctor seemed to recall some unspeakable scenes, her brow furrowing uncomfortably.
“Fortunately, I’ve witnessed too many partings and deaths, so my heart has hardened.”
“We quickly had the stairwells locked down. Some people still tried to use the elevator to come up, so we pulled the main circuit breaker in the elevator machine room.”
“The elevator ended up stuck between the first and second floors.”
“What about the people inside?” Kong Cheng, who had followed them, asked.
“There were indeed infected individuals,” the doctor stated.
“They clawed and bit at each other in there, screaming for about half an hour before finally quieting down.”
“But there’s something interesting,” Little Liu interjected, having drifted over from a conversation with others.
“I’ve been hanging around the elevator every day, listening to the zombies inside, and it’s a bit strange.”
“They’ve been much quieter these past two days, almost as if they’re starving to death.”
“It makes sense, too; what living thing can go without eating or drinking and still not die?”
“But then, why are the zombies out on the streets so energetic?”
“Logically, with no living people out, what are they eating? Tsk, tsk, tsk, biomedical science is truly profound; they say the 21st century is the century of biological sciences, and it’s absolutely true…”
The doctor, clearly irritated by him, waved him away.
“It’s just that brutal. Now, we can only calculate lives as data.”
“Sacrificing more lives to save one person is simply not something we can do.”
“It’s not *Saving Private Ryan*, after all, and even then, Ryan was an elderly mother’s last son, so special consideration made some sense.”
“But the police officer you mentioned…”
The doctor likely realized that continuing in this vein would be inappropriate, as it would overtly compare human lives, assigning them different values.
“If you can devise a way to safely transport our doctors there, then we will intervene and help.”
“Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until dawn. Though, to be frank, based on your description, that police officer will likely not survive until then.”
As she spoke, Little Ye slowly opened her eyes and sat up.
She squinted.
“Are your eyes nearsighted?” the doctor inquired.
“I lost my glasses earlier,” Jing Lan said.
“That’s easily remedied. Ophthalmology is on the third floor of the outpatient building.”
“Just cross the skybridge to the second floor of the outpatient department, then go up to the third, and Doctor Lei can fit her with new glasses.”
“Grinding lenses requires machinery, doesn’t it?”
“What do we do without electricity now? Are we supposed to grind them by hand?”
“Do you take our ophthalmologists for Spinoza?”
“We still have a few backup power sources, essentially large power banks with over a thousand watts of output.”
“We also have a diesel generator, but we’re conserving fuel for now.”
“In that case… I truly don’t know how to thank you enough.”
Turning back to Little Ye, Jing Lan saw her face still etched with bewilderment, and a palpable fear seemed to stir within her vacant eyes.
“What happened to you earlier?”
“While that thing was certainly terrifying, you shouldn’t have just frozen up like that!”
Jing Lan reached out and gently pinched the girl’s cheek.
The girl suddenly widened her eyes.
Then, to his alarm, she abruptly lunged into Jing Lan’s embrace.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa? Everyone’s watching!”
The girl trembled all over, as if she had just been exposed to a chilling wind.
“Give it back… let me give it back…”
“Give back what?”
Still shaking with terror, she remained silent.
All Jing Lan could do was hold her gently, stroking the back of her head.
“We’re safe now; there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Little Ye gradually calmed down.
“I know,” she responded.
That was her reply.
‘She wasn’t afraid of the monster,’ Jing Lan mused.
‘What, then, was she afraid of?’