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墨書 Inktalez
Moonset and Stars Sink, the evening breeze gently blew.
In the small courtyard, many people were either sitting or standing. An orange glow from the Guest Hall spilled out through a slightly ajar wooden door, where shadows moved about, their expressions hurried.
Song Jiu sat at the entrance, pressing hard on his throbbing temples, his mind in disarray.
After more than ten minutes, Liu Yan walked out from inside, looking exhausted, still wearing blood-stained latex gloves.
“How is it?” Song Jiu quickly stood up to ask.
“There are still two fragments missing. I just managed to stop the bleeding; surgery is necessary. Otherwise, he could bleed to death,” Liu Yan sighed, removing the bloodied gloves in frustration. “It was too chaotic at the time. I saw him jumping around and thought it was just a bruise; I didn’t expect the bullet to have penetrated.”
“What do we need for the surgery? What can I do?” Song Jiu didn’t understand the specific medical details but knew that Liu Yan was the only one among them who knew how to handle gunshot wounds, so he had to place his hopes on him.
“At the very least, we need standard surgical equipment and an X-ray. The bullet has penetrated about twenty centimeters, close to the front of the thigh. There’s a major artery nearby, and above that is the spine. If it gets damaged…” Liu Yan shook his head gravely, clearly indicating that Jiao Ziqian’s condition was not optimistic.
“How could this happen? It was just a shot in the buttocks, right? Luo Yu got shot too; how come it’s not this serious?” Guli came out to dump a basin of blood, her face tense with worry.
“Luo Yu had a graze; it’s different,” Liu Yan didn’t know how to explain the difference in severity of gunshot wounds to her and simply said, “In any case, Ziqian’s current situation is bad. Brother Jiu, you’re injured yourself; don’t go out. Send someone to find a hospital.”
“What equipment do we need?” Song Jiu asked.
“Many pieces of equipment are unavailable. We need to find a hospital and bring someone back to perform the surgery,” Liu Yan hadn’t finished speaking when a sudden scream came from inside.
Xiaofei rushed out in panic, exclaiming, “He’s bleeding again! What should we do?” The others’ expressions changed as they hurried back inside.
Once full of life, Jiao Ziqian now lay flat on the bed like a wilted plant. Several basins of blood were placed beside him; blood flowed profusely from his left buttock, and Chef Jia’s cotton for stopping the bleeding was already soaked through.
Song Jiu furrowed his brows as he approached Jiao Ziqian. The young man’s face was pale as paper, his lips white, and his gaze seemed somewhat unfocused.
“Ziqian, hang in there,” Song Jiu patted his face. The latter managed to force a smile but had no strength left to speak.
“This is bad.” Liu Yan’s expression grew even graver as he pressed down hard on an area near the root of the thigh and urged urgently, “The fragment might have severed the femoral artery! Quickly, go find a hospital!”
Song Jiu's mind buzzed, and his legs felt weak. Although he didn't understand medicine, he was aware of the consequences of arterial injury. Without bothering to ask more questions, he rushed out of the room and found Boss Lin, who was sitting by the lotus pond, pretending to strike a wooden fish.
"Where's the nearest hospital? Take me there quickly!"
"The hospital has long been abandoned; there are no doctors," Boss Lin stammered. Seeing Song Jiu's expression turn somewhat ferocious, he dared not waste any more time and quickly stood up. "Alright, alright, I'll take you."
The courtyard was in chaos; the main faction was panicking. Some were driving while others were gathering supplies, all waiting for Song Jiu's orders. Even those who had clearly wanted to distance themselves during the day showed some signs of regret. They didn't particularly like Song Jiu but had a decent impression of Jiao Ziqian, after all, it was Jiao Ziqian who had bought them time with a desperate counterattack that night.
The Guest Hall's doors swung wide open as Liu Yan and a few young men rushed out carrying a mattress, shouting, "We can't wait any longer; let's hit the road and find the nearest hospital."
"Can he hold on?" Chef Jia forced himself to remain calm as he supported Jiao Ziqian's head while following them out.
"I've tied off the proximal end; how long he can last is up to fate," Liu Yan said, wiping the blood from his face and shouting, "Is the vehicle ready?"
"Ready!" Luo Yu sprinted from the corridor and said urgently, " Brother Jiu is already outside."
"Bring more people and grab some weapons," Liu Yan knew that zombies were common in second-tier cities. To be safe, he instructed them to bring along what little ammunition they had left as they carried the mattress toward the temple entrance.
Pika had already started up, and the militia worked together to lift the mattress onto the vehicle. Liu Yan and Chef Jia climbed aboard to stabilize Jiao Ziqian while others got in one after another. The engine roared through the night as several bright searchlights pierced through the darkness ahead.
"Which way do we go?" Song Jiu took deep breaths repeatedly, reminding himself to stay calm in such moments.
Boss Lin in the passenger seat felt flustered by the commotion and stroked his beard nervously, stuttering, "Go straight for about three intersections, then take the overpass."
Luo Yu drove the SUV up beside Song Jiu and rolled down his window. "I'll clear the way ahead."
The quiet ancient temple briefly erupted into chaos before returning to calm. Dream Fan and Effie did not follow; although they were equally anxious, their presence would only complicate matters. With Chef Jia and Luo Yu helping out, it should be sufficient. The Direct Descendant Young Man faction mobilized almost entirely, leaving only a few injured behind. Cold Man intended to enter and talk with Effie but was promptly shoved out by Pockmarked Girl.
Cold Man smiled awkwardly but stubbornly blocked the doorway. "I don't have to go in; I can just stay here and talk to Effie for a moment."
"We need to rest now." Pockmarked Girl tried to push him away but lacked the strength. Cold Man clung stubbornly to the doorframe like a stubborn adhesive plaster, refusing to budge.
In the courtyard, people were watching a play. The women whispered among themselves while the men pointed and laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. A few injured men overheard the mocking from the Pockmarked Girl and rushed out. The spectators transformed into a group of enforcers, crowding around the Cold Man with a provocative glare aimed at the injured.
"Quite bold, aren't you? Brother Jiu just left, and you couldn't resist coming out to strut," Dream Fan said coldly as she stepped out from behind the door. She looked at the smug expression on Cold Man's face and sneered, "Luo Yu should have torn your mouth apart."
"Hey, don't use your little boyfriend to pressure me. The situation in camp is urgent, and I don't have time to deal with him. We're all just drifting here; who’s better than whom?" Cold Man seemed to have lost his senses. No matter how Dream Fan had mocked him before, he had ignored it all. Now, however, he acted as if he had gained newfound courage, like a peasant celebrating his newfound freedom.
"Say that to Brother Jiu; don’t bother us," Dream Fan signaled to the injured men to return to their rooms and reached for the door to close it.
Cold Man touched the bandage still stuck to his face and grabbed Dream Fan's wrist tightly, sneering, "Do you really think he can come back?"
"Idiot." Dream Fan struggled against his grip, which was unyielding. "Let go of me."
The injured men could no longer stand by. They pushed past the militia blocking the doorway and grabbed Cold Man by his collar, scolding him, "Are you getting too big for your britches?"
"Go to hell!" Several militia members surged forward, using their numbers to overpower the three injured men and began pummeling them.
"Stop it!" Dream Fan suddenly realized the situation was escalating. It seemed these people were genuinely planning to cause trouble while Song Jiu and the others were away.
"Alright then, if you want them to stop, you’ll have to show some willingness," Cold Man smirked maliciously, his gaze sweeping over Dream Fan as he taunted her. "In camp, all I see is you flirting with this one and that one. Just today you were getting cozy with that Fake Taoist—why not let the brothers enjoy themselves too?"
"Hou Xiong, enough!" Xiaofei could no longer tolerate his filthy words. Angrily, she rushed over and slapped him across the face.
With a sharp crack, the bandage on his cheek was torn away, revealing a swollen wound stitched with centipede-like threads that oozed blood.
Cold Man turned in surprise to Xiaofei and said slowly, "How could you do this to me?"
Xiaofei was furious but also slightly panicked after striking him. She realized that with Song Jiu and his group gone, only they remained—if a real conflict broke out, they would be at a disadvantage.
"We've known each other for so long; you've only known that idiot for a few days. He killed Ziming—have you forgotten why you're protecting him?" Cold Man's eyes reflected hurt as he straightened up and gestured toward the militia surrounding him. "If it weren't for that guy, would we all be in this mess? Effie, wake up!"
"You’re a grown man; have some shame!" Pockmarked Girl shouted angrily as she pushed through several militia members to help the injured men back inside. Pointing at Cold Man's nose, she scolded him fiercely, "You big fool! If it weren't for Song Jiu, you'd be dead by now!"
"Well, since you are unwilling to open your eyes, I can't be blamed for what happens next." Cold Man exerted his strength and pulled Dream Fan out, sneering, "Be smart and see the situation clearly. Here, I am in charge."
"You’re nothing. When Song Jiu comes back tomorrow, he’ll deal with you." Pockmarked Girl cursed fiercely, but as more Militia gathered at the entrance, fear crept in uncontrollably.
"Tomorrow," Cold Man laughed, turning around and shouting, "Go and grab everything movable from the supermarket. Let's go."
Dream Fan was stunned. Cold Man had clearly been plotting this for a long time, and today he had seized the opportunity. Song Jiu and the others had left in a hurry, leaving a vehicle at the entrance. Cold Man's move to drain the resources was quite insidious. What alarmed Dream Fan even more was that it seemed he intended to do more than just empty the supplies.
Half an hour later, the food and medicine in the supermarket were completely looted. Several buckets of drinking water were filled with well water and crammed into the back of the truck; Dream Fan and her two companions were tied up and thrown into the cargo area. Cold Man sat in the driver's seat while a Militia member climbed into the passenger seat. The other seven Militia members climbed onto the truck bed, securing themselves in various ways before signaling to Cold Man in the driver's seat.
"What about the others?" Dream Fan noticed that all those who got on were men; none of the women who had sat at the same table with them during the day had come along.
"What other people?" Cold Man feigned confusion.
"You won't get far." Dream Fan snorted coldly, having guessed Cold Man's intentions. He never intended to take everyone; the men were a safety guarantee. Without a camp, too many non-combatants would only consume resources. This bastard not only emptied the warehouse but also left Song Jiu with over ten mouths to feed.
"Worry about yourself." Cold Man started the car, and the severely overloaded Pika sank slightly at the back. The engine emitted a few mournful cries as Gunfire puffed out a trail of smoke while they awkwardly drove away in the opposite direction of Song Jiu and his group.
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