That sentence made Song Nanxing’s mind explode.
He took a deep breath, steadied Shen Du, closed the door, and said, “Hang in there, it’s okay. I’ll take you to the health center.”
He didn’t even know if he was comforting Shen Du or himself. Song Nanxing draped Shen Du’s arm over his own shoulder and helped him down the stairs.
Shen Du was half a head taller than him. Though he looked thin, his weight was unexpectedly heavy. By the time Song Nanxing managed to get him from the fourth floor to the first, he was sweating buckets from the effort.
Song Nanxing had to stop to catch his breath.
The feverish and dazed Shen Du slumped against his shoulder, his full weight pressing down, head drooping limply against Song Nanxing’s neck. As if he’d caught a scent, the usually quiet man suddenly began sniffing and rooting at his neck, and Song Nanxing even felt something wet and slick lick the side of his neck—like a tongue.
That warm, damp sensation made Song Nanxing’s scalp tingle.
He tried to tilt his head away and called out to Shen Du.
Shen Du looked up at him, those always gentle eyes now clouded and dazed. A crimson tongue licked across his lips as he muttered, “So fragrant…”
Song Nanxing: “…”
His face was expressionless, and he even had the idle thought: luckily, the tongue hasn’t split yet.
The news footage he’d watched before bed flashed through his mind. Song Nanxing took a deep breath to calm himself and slapped Shen Du’s face hard. “Shen Du, wake up! We’re going to the health center right now. You have to control yourself, do you hear me?”
He was genuinely afraid that, in his delirium, Shen Du might actually bite him.
Shen Du’s eyes widened a bit, and he mumbled a vague “Mm.”
Song Nanxing didn’t dare delay any longer. He hefted Shen Du up again and made for the underground parking garage.
He’d barely taken a few steps when he saw Zhou Xuan coming from the other direction, also carrying someone. Both were surprised to see each other. Zhou Xuan glanced at Shen Du slumped on Song Nanxing’s back, the crease between his brows deepening. “Seafood too? Contaminated?”
“Yeah, we had crayfish this afternoon.” Song Nanxing glanced at the person Zhou Xuan was carrying. “Him too?”
He recognized the teenager in Zhou Xuan’s arms—it was the silent, nearly invisible neighbor from the fifth floor. Last time, when he and Shen Du had gone to the sixth floor to walk the dog, they’d run into him on the stairs.
“That’s the fifth-floor resident, right? You two know each other?”
“He’s my student. His parents don’t really take care of him.” Zhou Xuan looked down at the boy in his arms. Even while sick, the kid was quiet, arms curled protectively around himself, face buried in Zhou Xuan’s chest. Only when he felt truly awful would he whimper softly.
Zhou Xuan’s expression softened a bit. He gently patted the boy’s back to comfort him, then said to Song Nanxing, “You’re heading to the health center too? My car’s already out front. Let’s go together. That way we can look out for each other on the way.”
Song Nanxing’s car was still in the underground garage. Dragging Shen Du all the way there would be exhausting, so he didn’t bother with courtesy. “Thanks, I’ll take you up on that.”
Zhou Xuan’s car was parked on the main road not far from the building. He buckled Xu Lai into the front passenger seat, then came back to help Song Nanxing get Shen Du into the back.
Once both patients were settled, Zhou Xuan fetched two bottles of water and two syringes from the trunk and handed them to Song Nanxing. “If he gets really thirsty, let him have a bit of water. But don’t let him drink too much, or his metabolism might speed up and accelerate the bodily mutation. I’ll drive—keep an eye on both of them. If either starts showing signs of physical transformation, inject them with the sedative immediately.”
Song Nanxing took them. “Got it.”
Zhou Xuan started the car and sped toward the health center.
Song Nanxing pocketed the syringes and let Shen Du lean against him.
Shen Du’s body was burning hot, enough to be alarming. Song Nanxing was worried his brain might fry, so he dampened a tissue with water and applied a cold compress.
Shen Du was fairly cooperative, though he kept dazedly trying to nuzzle closer to Song Nanxing’s neck. Song Nanxing suspected that, after being contaminated, his instincts were kicking in, making him want to bite at any time.
He didn’t dare let Shen Du get too close and could only take the initiative, grabbing his arm and holding him tightly to keep him still.
Fortunately, the high fever made Shen Du weak. Maybe he was too exhausted to struggle, but once Song Nanxing restrained him, he gradually quieted down.
Song Nanxing gave him water twice. About twenty minutes later, Zhou Xuan suddenly slammed on the brakes.
“We’re here?” Song Nanxing craned his neck to look outside, only to see the road ahead blocked off by police tape and surrounded by officers.
Zhou Xuan rolled down the window and asked, “What’s going on? We need to get to the health center, it’s urgent.”
The police, all in hazmat suits and heavily armed, waved them back with grave expressions. “There’s an emergency up ahead. The whole area is locked down. You’ll need to take a detour.”
Zhou Xuan checked the GPS. There were only two highways connecting the Outer District to the Nei Cheng District, and taking the back roads would mean a long detour. He tapped another route and saw someone had marked it on the map. Zhou Xuan checked the marker and said, “Looks like the other route is blocked too.”
Song Nanxing pulled up the national highway navigation. “The detour will add forty minutes. The symptoms seem to be worsening quickly this time—I don’t know if they can hold out that long.”
Zhou Xuan searched the map for a bit and said, “There’s a community hospital nearby. They have a Psychiatric Contamination Department too. Let’s try there first. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll take the back roads to the health center.”
Time was tight. Once they’d decided, Zhou Xuan immediately turned the car around and headed for the community hospital.
It was close—just ten minutes away.
Song Nanxing helped Shen Du out of the car, following Zhou Xuan inside.
But maybe because it was so late, even though the community hospital’s doors were open, there was no one at the front desk.
Zhou Xuan said, “The duty room’s over there. I’ll check—it’s probably just too late for the front desk to be staffed.” He carried Xu Lai toward the duty room, while Song Nanxing helped Shen Du to a chair against the wall in a consulting room.
There weren’t many people in the hospital at midnight. All the consulting rooms to Song Nanxing’s left had their doors closed, with only the corridor lights on. He gave Shen Du a bit more water, checked his eyes and tongue for changes, and made sure his skin wasn’t secreting anything unusual before finally relaxing a little.
Just then, voices came from the consulting room next door.
Song Nanxing paused, walked to the door, and knocked. “Is anyone there?”
The voices inside stopped. Someone replied, “Come in.”
Song Nanxing pushed the door open to see a doctor in a white coat bent over, rummaging through a cabinet under the desk. He didn’t care what the doctor was busy with and quickly said, “Doctor, my friend may have accidentally eaten contaminated seafood—”
Before he could finish, the doctor looked up. A long, bright red, split tongue licked across his lips. Two bulging, pupil-only eyes stared at Song Nanxing as he said, “Bring your friend in for a look.”
As he spoke, drool mixed with fresh blood dripped from his mouth, splattering bloodstains onto his white coat.
At his feet, a blood-spattered leg stretched out.
“Thank you, doctor, but that won’t be necessary.” Song Nanxing slammed the door shut, hurriedly hefted Shen Du, and turned to leave.
Supporting Shen Du, he could only shout toward the duty room, “Zhou Xuan, something’s wrong with this hospital! Get out, now!”
Zhou Xuan came striding out of the duty room with Xu Lai in his arms, speckled with red stains, a fierce frown etched on his brow. “This hospital’s contaminated too. The doctors’ mutations are even worse than what was shown on the news.”
Before he finished speaking, he suddenly stopped, staring at the people slowly gathering at the entrance. His voice deepened, “Looks like the health center’s assessment was wrong. This seafood contamination must’ve started long ago—definitely more than a week.”
Outside the hospital entrance, a dozen or so green-skinned people staggered toward them. Like the doctor, their eyes bulged with only black pupils, skin oozing pale yellow mucus, and scarlet split tongues flicked from their wide mouths as they eyed Song Nanxing’s group greedily.
Zhou Xuan kicked the main doors shut, and Song Nanxing quickly helped lock them with a U-shaped lock hanging from the handle.
Just then, a door opened in the consulting room to the right. Out of the corner of his eye, Song Nanxing saw the doctor lurching out. He bent down, hoisted Shen Du onto his back, and said to Zhou Xuan, “They’re slow. Let’s hide on the second floor first.”
The two of them hurried up the left-side staircase and found an inner consulting room to hide in.
Song Nanxing stashed Shen Du under the desk, caught his breath, and dialed Han Zhi’s number, but no one answered after a long wait.
Zhou Xuan said, “I requested support from the Containment Center, but Chu Captain said there’s been an emergency contamination event in the Nei Cheng District—all personnel have been redeployed there.”
He and Song Nanxing exchanged glances, listening to the heavy footsteps in the corridor. Zhou Xuan said gravely, “Chu Captain will try to send backup, but until they get here, we’ll have to rely on ourselves.”
Song Nanxing pulled a folding Swiss Army knife from his pocket. “Let’s keep them here. I’ll go with you.”
Zhou Xuan glanced at him and didn’t refuse. “The sedatives—let’s inject them first, just in case.”