Chapter 002: The Surgical Ward

This story is purely a work of fiction.

Chi Zhaoming stepped into the bathroom and switched on the water heater. The water burst forth in a powerful stream. Zhaoming sighed, “Wow, the water pressure is amazing. The faucets in prison barely dripped, like an old man struggling to urinate.” He adjusted the temperature, testing it with his hand, and when it felt just right, he stopped, savoring the comfort. Ever since he’d been incarcerated, he hadn’t enjoyed a proper bath. He remembered how, every winter in the past, he’d go for long sauna sessions every few days, sweating out the toxins that accumulated within his body. For ten whole years, he hadn’t once sat in a sauna. His body felt heavy, burdened by the absence, but now, in this five-star hotel with its own sauna, he couldn’t help but rejoice.

He stripped off his clothes and ducked his head beneath the shower, letting the steaming water cascade over him. When he opened the shampoo, its fragrance lingered on his hands, and he held them to his nose for a long time. For ten years, he’d washed his hair with nothing but harsh, foul-smelling soap, the memory of which now made him nauseous.

His hair was short, less than two centimeters long, grown out since his last shave two months before. He poured a generous amount of shampoo onto his head and scrubbed vigorously with both hands—again and again, as though he were ridding himself of lice, unwilling to stop until every last impurity had been driven from his scalp. Only when he was convinced that the roots were truly clean did he finally halt.

After washing his hair, he lathered his entire body with shower gel, scrubbing at the grime with a towel until red welts appeared on his skin. He felt a freshness unlike anything he’d known before, letting the water spray over his head and body, wiping the streams from his face and opening and closing his eyes in thoughtful reverie.

When he’d finished, he slipped into the dry sauna, a white towel wrapped around his waist. He ladled water over the hot stones again and again, making the temperature climb higher and higher until sweat poured from his body. He didn’t know how much time had passed before a tightness grew in his chest and, face flushed, he finally emerged from the sauna.

Chi Zhaoming’s face was red after bathing, a crisp white towel around his waist. The once prominent muscles on his chest had softened, grown slack. “My God, how did you get so many scars? What happened to you?” Wu Zhengzhe asked in astonishment.

“I was beaten in prison,” Chi Zhaoming replied.

“There are wounds all over you. How many beatings did you take, Brother?” Wu Zhengzhe asked, his heart aching.

“Let’s not talk about it. The past is behind me,” Zhaoming said, sipping green tea. “You visited me every month and looked after my son for all these years. Without you, I don’t know how Dujuan and Xiyu could have survived this ordeal. Now Xiyu’s a police officer, and he’s doing well. I heard he won a championship in the force’s competition. That’s all thanks to your guidance. He’s also a top-notch hacker, which will serve him well in his career.” Chi Zhaoming’s voice caught with emotion.

“That’s not all—Xiyu is now a key investigator assigned by the ministry to the Dahe case, working on a major anti-corruption operation. Progress is promising. There are things I can’t tell you yet, but for your health, don’t dwell on too much right now. We’ll talk again later,” Wu Zhengzhe assured him.

Hearing this, Chi Zhaoming’s eyes turned red. “It’s all my fault, one misstep after another.”

Wu Zhengzhe patted his shoulder. “It’s all in the past now—let it stay there.”

“Yes, it’s over, but what about the present? My wife is so ill; my heart is scarred. I don’t care about myself, but if only she could be well, I could be at peace. As for my son, he’s naturally gifted, and with your guidance, I don’t worry about him. My only fear is for my wife’s safety,” Zhaoming said.

“Don’t worry. Good people are watched over by heaven. I believe she will pull through,” Wu Zhengzhe reassured him, clapping him on the shoulder. Zhaoming managed a bitter smile. “Besides, you still have me, your brother! Stay strong for the operation—you must hang in there!” Wu Zhengzhe clenched his fist, cheering him on.

“Get some rest. At lunchtime, the hotel staff will bring up the meal I ordered for you. Sleep well. I’m going to the hospital to check on your wife and will come back this afternoon,” Wu Zhengzhe said as he laid out the bedding for Zhaoming.

After Wu Zhengzhe left, Chi Zhaoming busied himself with his belongings—a luminous Chairman Mao badge and a few odds and ends. He carefully placed his diary and other items in a document folder, then stroked the cherished badge that had been with him for over thirty years before tucking it under his pillow. He sat there, lost in thought.

Wu Zhengzhe arrived at Dahe Hospital. In the surgical ward, his sister-in-law Dujuan lay in bed, her face sallow and bloodless, her hair dry and disheveled, eyelids swollen, her former beauty now etched with hardship and sorrow—one couldn’t help but feel pity at the sight.

She lay beneath a white hospital blanket emblazoned with the hospital’s name. From a hook on the ceiling hung an IV, the medicine dripping slowly, the sound audible in the quiet room.

Outside, a gentle rain fell without end. Suddenly, a cold draft slipped through a gap in the window, making the blinds flutter and snap against the wall. Dujuan murmured and shivered beneath the covers.

In the room was a young woman, about thirty years old, standing over one meter sixty-five, with delicate features, a high-bridged nose, small lips just a touch full—her beauty understated but striking. Her eyes were clear and expressive, as if they could speak. She wore a faded yellow jacket, patched in one place, and her sneakers bore dark stains—perhaps from oil, perhaps from trudging through mud. One shoe’s edge was already torn. Her face, worn from long hours caring for the patient, showed traces of fatigue. Her name was Chi Mingyue, Chi Zhaoming’s younger sister, and by extension, Wu Zhengzhe’s as well—she always called him Brother Zhe.

Seeing Dujuan restless and uncomfortable, Mingyue pulled the blanket up over her and added another from home for warmth.

Wu Zhengzhe knocked at the door. Mingyue answered, inviting him in. Seeing him, she quickly set aside her work, her voice low and concerned. “Have you found a kidney donor for my sister-in-law?”

“Yes, we’ve found one. Stay with her for now—I’m going to see the chief physician, and we’ll talk later,” Wu Zhengzhe replied before slipping out.

In Professor Qu Wenkai’s office, the professor—wearing thick glasses like the bottom of a bottle, with short hair and a kind, pale face—was reviewing several test reports in detail.

Wu Zhengzhe stood at the office door and knocked gently. A voice from within bade him enter.

Professor Qu Wenkai’s expression was grave, as if he had something important to say. Wu Zhengzhe’s heart pounded with anxiety, uncertain about what was to come.

“Please, sit,” Professor Qu said, setting aside the reports.

“This morning, Dujuan’s test results came back. According to the report—”

“How is she?” Wu Zhengzhe interrupted, unable to wait.

“With her current condition, she urgently needs a kidney transplant. Unfortunately, we haven’t found a suitable match yet. By the way, didn’t you mention a potential donor with the same blood type a few days ago?” Professor Qu asked with concern.

“Yes, I just met with him. I’ve come straight from there,” Wu Zhengzhe replied.

“Who is it? Has he agreed to donate?”

“You know him too—it’s Chi Zhaoming, Dujuan’s husband!” Wu Zhengzhe answered.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier? You had me worried, old friend! Wasn’t he still in prison? He’s out now?” Professor Qu touched his head, flipping through his desk calendar.

“How could I forget Zhaoming’s release date? I should have welcomed him home myself,” the professor said, looking disappointed.

“He’s staying at Tianlun Hotel and is in good spirits. His blood type matches Dujuan’s. To be honest, I had their compatibility tests done at another hospital in secret, at Zhaoming’s request. I hope you understand,” Wu Zhengzhe explained.

“I remember Zhaoming’s blood type is A. The first summer he was in military school, he visited me on campus—he hadn’t gone home, and his cap had ‘A’ marked inside. That day we drank a lot, reminisced all night about our four brothers, especially Dacheng, who died on the Laotian front—we missed our eldest so much. Those memories feel like yesterday. But there’s no time for that now; let’s talk another day!”

“At least the kidney donor issue is settled,” Professor Qu said with relief, and his smile eased Wu Zhengzhe’s nerves.

“But I must tell you, Zhaoming hasn’t told his family he’s out of prison yet, so please don’t mention it to them,” Wu Zhengzhe cautioned.

“I’m afraid that won’t do. For such a major operation, the family must sign the papers in case anything happens,” Professor Qu replied.

“Can’t I sign for him?” Wu Zhengzhe asked.

“That’s not enough. If anything goes wrong, we can’t take that responsibility,” the professor said, taking a sip of water.

“If that’s the case, then have Zhaoming’s sister, Mingyue, sign instead. Their parents have both passed, and there’s no one else. Mingyue is here in Dahe, deeply devoted to her brother and sister-in-law. As her legal guardian, there should be no problem. Why not tell Mingyue and let her handle it?” Professor Qu suggested.

“I’ll talk to Mingyue, but don’t let Dujuan know. If she finds out, she’ll never agree to receive her husband’s kidney. No matter how much she resents Zhaoming, she still loves him, even if she won’t admit it. If she knows, she’ll refuse, and then we’ll have a real problem,” Wu Zhengzhe said, rising to leave.

As Wu Zhengzhe opened the door to find Mingyue, he found her already standing before him.

“You heard everything?” he asked.

Mingyue nodded. “I heard it all. Where is my brother now?” she asked anxiously.

“I picked him up this morning; he’s at the Tianlun Hotel.” I gave her the address. Mingyue thought for a moment, then said, “I’ll go home first, and then head to the hotel to meet you and my brother.”

(To be continued)