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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter One Hundred and Five: Another Group
Jiang He stared blankly at the circle of people outside the vehicle, his mind momentarily stalled. He began to doubt whether he was losing his sanity. Was this a hallucination?
The soldier holding the gun noticed Jiang He staring at him in a daze, not speaking or following orders, so he reached out to open the car door, intending to drag Jiang He out.
However, as soon as the door swung open, Jiang He tumbled out, collapsing on the ground and lying motionless.
His entrance was somewhat bizarre; the soldiers had seen those who resisted fiercely and those who cooperated obediently, but this was their first encounter with someone playing dead.
The soldier kept his gun trained on Jiang He's head and leaned over to kick him, shouting, "Hey! Get up!"
Lying on the ground, Jiang He resembled a corpse. No matter how much he was kicked or called, he remained utterly still.
A pair of large hands landed on the soldier's shoulder. The soldier turned around to see his superior and obediently stepped aside.
The owner of those hands was a strong man whose features were obscured by the darkness. His hat was pulled low, but his profile was striking. A curved scar ran from behind his ear down to the corner of his mouth.
The man approached, crouched down, and patted Jiang He's shoulder. His hand hovered for a moment before flipping over; he pinched his fingers together to wipe away the blood from his fingertips.
"He's injured. Call Old Ma down," the man said as he stood up and stepped over Jiang He's body. He leaned into the vehicle to take a look; aside from an empty five-round magazine and a vacant thermos, there was nothing else.
A middle-aged man jumped out of the truck, wearing a doctor's cap and a white coat, carrying a medical kit emblazoned with the Red Cross. He pushed past the soldiers and rushed over.
"Make some room; shine a flashlight for me," Old Ma waved away the soldiers guarding Jiang He and reached out to check his breathing. "Can you hear me? Move your head if you can hear me."
Jiang He wanted to respond but seemed unable to muster any strength; words were stuck in his throat and wouldn't come out. Hearing Old Ma's question, he desperately tried to move slightly, signaling that he was still alive.
Jiang He had actually planned to get out of the car, crouch down, and sing "Conquer," but his body didn’t listen to his brain and he fell down like a stick. His whole side was already numb with pain, and this fall nearly knocked him out. Jiang He estimated that he was saved; he could see people on the road from a distance. At that moment, he realized he must have taken a wrong turn. He thought about turning back, but then considered that retracing his steps might not lead him anywhere either, so it was better to come over and take a chance. After all, Jiang He didn’t want to suddenly faint at the steering wheel and crash down the highway, ending up as a meal for some hungry zombie.
At first glance, seeing the deep green uniforms made Jiang He think he had fallen into the hands of the Southern Pond Bandits again, but as he got closer, he realized it was not the case. There were many of them, and they felt different from the soldiers in Nantang. The Southern Pond Bandits exuded a certain banditry aura that Jiang He couldn’t quite explain; perhaps it was something he had naturally picked up after spending time with Bai Yudong and his group.
His dazed state was partly due to this; these people felt similar to Bai Yudong's crew, so for a moment, Jiang He thought he must have encountered a delayed rescue team.
No matter what, as long as they weren’t from Nantang, there was hope for survival. Jiang He thought this as his eyelids grew heavier.
He heard someone named Old Ma say something, and then several soldiers lifted him up. When they touched his wounds, the pain forcibly pulled him back from the brink of unconsciousness.
Jiang He was laid down beside a truck, flat on his back, and beams of flashlight swept over him, making it hard for him to open his eyes.
Old Ma quickly put on PVC gloves and dramatically covered his mouth with a mask. Under the flashlight's glare, stainless steel surgical scissors and tweezers gleamed ominously.
“Hang in there; don’t shout,” Old Ma said, revealing only his eyes. Jiang He could see the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and guessed that this man was quite a bit older than him. He nodded slightly to indicate he understood but couldn’t help thinking: I’m in this state; how can I shout? It’s just ah ah ah ah ah ah um—
Jiang He’s pained cry was silenced by Old Ma’s hand pressing against his stomach. Old Ma’s gaze was colder than the surgical scissors as he stared at him until Jiang He’s body relaxed before finally releasing his grip.
“I told you not to shout,” Old Ma said impatiently, beckoning two soldiers over. “Cover his mouth.”
“Please don’t…” Jiang He pleaded pitifully. “It’s hard to breathe through my nose; I’ll suffocate.”
“Then bear it. Did you hear me? If you shout again, I won’t care about you,” Old Ma surprisingly seemed reasonable as he gestured for the two soldiers to go back to where they came from. He leaned down seriously to look into Jiang He’s eyes and said, “Your clothes are stuck with blood. I need to tear them open and check if any vital areas are injured. Do you understand?”
“Understood.” Jiang He forced out a grateful smile and glanced around at the soldiers and the man who had examined him earlier before asking curiously, “Who are you?”
"Wait until you survive to ask." Old Ma dismissed his question, gently peeling away the blood-soaked clothing, slowly cutting it open with scissors. Before long, the tattered camouflage uniform that had accompanied Jiang He for over a month was reduced to strips of fabric.
Jiang He felt no sorrow; instead, he found it somewhat amusing. Last time he woke up injured wearing clothes given by Bai Yudong, and it seemed this time he would end up with a new military outfit.
Old Ma worked swiftly, noticing that Jiang He could endure the pain of his wounds tearing apart, so he no longer held back. In no time, he had stripped him down completely.
"Water, alcohol," Old Ma commanded with the authority of a seasoned medic. His hands never stopped moving as he occasionally instructed the soldiers nearby to assist him. The open space quickly transformed into a makeshift operating table.
The man had been sitting at the front of the Passat, silent for a while before standing up and ordering, "Outpost on guard, the rest stay put." After speaking, he walked toward the outdoor operating table and squatted down across from Old Ma, looking down at Jiang He from above.
Jiang He summoned his last bit of rationality and strength to suppress the pain, casting a sidelong glance at the man as he continued to battle against the intense agony.
"We're out of anesthetics; just bear with it," the man said in a surprisingly gentle tone. Backlit by the sun, he smiled, revealing two rows of white teeth.
Jiang He rolled his eyes and let out a couple of pig-like grunts. He could feel Old Ma cleaning the wounds caused by steel balls and shards of glass with alcohol swabs—the stinging sensation was both painful and oddly memorable.
"What’s your name?" The man perhaps wanted to distract Jiang He from his pain, but Jiang He thought this guy was being foolish; in such a dire situation, did he really expect an answer?
"My name is Shaoshan; the doctor performing your surgery is Old Ma." Seeing that Jiang He remained silent, the scar-faced man began to play a game of self-questioning: "We are soldiers; what about you?"
Jiang He took a deep breath, puffed for a while, and finally squeezed out two words: "Law-abiding citizen!"
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