Chapter 241 - 110: The Injured Duo (Part 2)

Chapter 241: Chapter 110: The Injured Duo (Part 2)

It seemed to be working, but he couldn’t sleep.

Zhang Shutong felt that toughing it out wasn’t a sustainable solution. He needed to be in decent shape for the evening, at the very least. ’By the way, did you need an ID to register at the hospital back in 2012? Probably not...’ he thought, his mind a bit fuzzy.

’I’ll go there and get some medicine.’

"Should we keep waiting?" he asked, seeking Lu Qinglian’s opinion.

"If you can manage."

That settled it. The two of them got back on the motorcycle and headed for the hospital.

The island was perfect for a slow-paced life, and the streets remained sparsely populated.

He had just sent Gu Qiuyan another message. She replied that she was eating and told him not to worry.

Zhang Shutong replied out of habit, telling her to be careful and especially to have her bodyguards watch both doors. He felt like he was nagging. ’Oh well, if she gets annoyed, it’ll only be for today.’

The hospital was in the town center. They arrived at exactly 11:20 AM.

He’d been healthy as a kid and had rarely come here. He only remembered it as a three-story building: the outpatient clinic on the first floor, the inpatient wards on the second, and various specialist departments on the third. It was too small for a hospital but far too large for a clinic. With only a dozen or so doctors on duty, you couldn’t expect them to treat any serious illnesses, but this was the island, and people were used to it.

The moment they stepped inside, they were met with the faint smell of disinfectant. The bottom half of the walls was painted green, while the white top half had yellowed with age. Red cross symbols were posted on them. Zhang Shutong led Lu Qinglian to a window to wait in line.

"Have you been here before?"

"Almost never."

"Got some embarrassing condition you can’t talk about?"

"It’s just for minor ailments. It’s not necessary. I just take some medicine and it passes."

Common sense was a hit-or-miss concept for Lu Qinglian, and Zhang Shutong was used to teaching her. He explained where to register, which department to go to for which illness, where to see the doctor afterward, and that she should bring her medical records next time if she had any.

"Don’t treat me like an idiot." She sounded a little exasperated as she listened. "I’m here with *you*."

"Then guess why I registered for two appointments." Zhang Shutong said something to the nurse at the window before turning back to her. "One for Respiratory Medicine, one for Surgery."

"Is the fever actually making you hallucinate?" Lu Qinglian asked, applying the knowledge she had just acquired.

"It’s to get your foot checked..."

Lu Qinglian seemed not to have expected that, and for a rare moment, she was stunned.

"That’s not necessary."

"Don’t be polite—no, that’s not it. Don’t try to act tough." Zhang Shutong couldn’t be bothered to argue. "Look at me, I’m not toughing it out anymore. If you’re sick, you get treated. Besides, I’m partially responsible for what happened to you."

"You’d best not say things with such a double meaning."

"Then how about: I’m also responsible for your foot?"

"Are you doing this on purpose?" Lu Qinglian asked, her expression blank.

"No need to thank me."

"...Thank you," she finally said softly after a long moment.

"Like I said, no thanks needed. I’m just helping myself," Zhang Shutong said, mimicking her nonchalant tone. It was, he felt, the only remotely amusing thing that had happened all day.

In response, she shot him a dangerous glare.

"Don’t copy the way I talk."

’It really was for his own sake. If her foot healed, they could catch the killer. The logic was simple.’

But there was some kindness in her eyes. Zhang Shutong dropped the banter, and they went to the respiratory medicine department first. The girl had no common sense; she was supposed to wait outside but followed him right in. She sat on a small stool to the side, her expression calm, looking for all the world like a concerned family member. Zhang Shutong didn’t have the energy to correct her. He explained the cause of his illness to the doctor, stuck a thermometer under his arm, and waited listlessly.

"Runny nose?" the doctor, a middle-aged man, asked.

"A little."

"What about phlegm?"

"No, but I have a bit of a cough."

"Lift up your shirt," the man said, picking up his stethoscope.

Zhang Shutong complied. There was no reason to be shy—even with Lu Qinglian right there—because he still had his thermal undershirt on.

"It’s nothing, you just caught a chill. A little bit of inflammation, but it’s not the flu." The doctor listened for a moment, then pressed on his chest just in case. "If it hurts..."

Before the doctor could finish, Zhang Shutong hissed in pain.

"Does it hurt a lot?" The man’s expression turned serious, and he pulled his mask up over his face.

"Er, it’s fine. I got kicked..."

"You kids these days... You look so clean-cut, I thought you were a good student." The doctor shook his head. "What are you doing fighting in the snow? If you fall, you’ll end up right next door in Surgery. I’m telling you, don’t take this lightly. Just last week, two students from your school were brought in..."

The doctor started rambling out of habit, but Zhang Shutong was thinking:

’One, I *am* a good student. This wasn’t a fight, it was a one-sided beatdown. But the person who did the beating is sitting right next to me, so I can’t really say that out loud.’

’Two, you’re practically psychic. We really *are* going to the Surgery department next.’

When he was feeling down, he had a knack for telling himself little jokes to stay amused. It was surprisingly effective.

But Zhang Shutong couldn’t smile when he saw the thermometer. The reason was simple: he never expected his fever to be over thirty-eight degrees Celsius.

"Your fever is getting a bit high. I’ll prescribe an IV drip first. Go pay for it outside, then head to the first room on the left on the second floor. Just give this slip to the nurse."

The doctor added the extra instructions because he saw he was a student.

Zhang Shutong asked, his head aching,

"How long will the drip take?"

"It’s about a three-hour dose. Let’s start you on a three-day course."

"Can we switch it to a fever-reducing shot? I have something I need to do later."

"A shot probably won’t be enough to bring a fever this high down." The doctor adjusted his glasses. "Besides, those shots are hard on your system. I know you young people think drips are too slow and none of you have the patience to wait, but..."

’On the contrary,’ he thought, ’I’d love to get a drip and take a nap, but I really don’t have the time.’

So Zhang Shutong sighed.

"I’ll have to trouble you, then."

"Fine. Your parents aren’t here, so I can’t talk you out of it," the doctor said, being rather easygoing. He mumbled as he wrote out the prescription. "Go home and rest after the shot. Just stay in bed for the rest of the day. If you’re not feeling better, come back."

Zhang Shutong quickly thanked him, then called to Lu Qinglian as they left the examination room.

He would have to pull down his pants for the shot, and he was just about to tell Lu Qinglian not to follow him in this time. But to his surprise, the moment they were out the door, she apologized.

Zhang Shutong knew she was probably referring to the bruise on his chest, but there was no point in dwelling on what happened yesterday.

"You can teach me how to ride the motorcycle while you’re getting your shot," Lu Qinglian offered, a rare suggestion from her.

"It’s fine. I can handle it."

The two of them went to the Surgery department next door. The doctor was a middle-aged woman. Lu Qinglian took off her shoes and socks, revealing her sprained ankle.

Zhang Shutong sat beside her, playing the part of a family member himself this time. He took a look and saw that it was much more serious than he’d imagined. Her otherwise slender ankle was badly swollen.

Zhang Shutong felt a pang of sympathetic pain just looking at it; it hadn’t looked this bad at home yesterday. Honestly, if he had known Lu Qinglian’s foot was this severe, he absolutely would not have picked her up this morning. He would have let her rest on the mountain and gone off as a lone wolf.

The doctor was just as shocked as he was.

"You didn’t just sprain this today, did you? How did it get so bad?"

If the male doctor’s seriousness had been a false alarm, this woman’s was the real deal.

"I twisted it yesterday," Lu Qinglian replied calmly.

"And you’ve been resting it at home?"

"I’ve been active on it."

"Child, doesn’t it hurt?" The doctor was even more astonished. "An injury like this should be too painful to even move."

Zhang Shutong was even more astonished than the doctor. He knew that when Lu Qinglian said she’d "been active," it wasn’t just a matter of walking. On the contrary, she had been running, had even gotten into a fight, and today she had walked all the way down the mountain by herself... Zhang Shutong couldn’t begin to calculate how far she had traveled on that injured foot, yet she had never said a word.

"Of course it hurts."

"If it hurts, then how could you..."

"I had things to do. So I had to endure it," she stated calmly.

But she still frowned when the doctor pressed on the injured spot. Zhang Shutong noticed her toes curling slightly. ’So it really does hurt. She’s just enduring it, not immune to the pain.’

He was suddenly struck with a pang of guilt.

"You should have come in sooner. Why did you wait so long?" Perhaps Lu Qinglian was around the same age as her own daughter, because the doctor’s tone unconsciously shifted to that of an elder chiding a junior. "You’re lucky it’s just a muscle strain. If you had fractured a bone, it would have been a disaster."

"I already treated it yesterday." But Lu Qinglian was like this with everyone, like a block of hard ice in the ever-present snow outside. Her voice was devoid of inflection.

"How did you treat it?"

"I soaked my foot and applied safflower oil liniment."

"What? You soaked it?" To their surprise, the doctor’s voice rose, and her brow knitted together. "Now I finally understand why it’s so severe! For the first forty-eight hours after a sprain, you’re supposed to use an ice pack for a cold compress! Who told you to soak it in hot water?"

The doctor was clearly angry. Both of them froze, stunned.

Then, the young woman slowly turned her gaze toward the young man at her side.