Inside the Emergency Room
The doctors and nurses bustled about in a controlled frenzy.
At first, resuscitating Lin Fan had been relatively straightforward. But once Old Zhang was wheeled in, everything spiraled into chaos.
The chief physician muttered under his breath:
"Back when Director Li recruited me, he said, 'Come to our hospital—you'll perform the most high-risk surgeries and hone your skills to perfection.' I didn't believe him. Where would so many dangerous operations come from?"
"Now, after nine years on the job, I've crossed paths with this little devil forty-eight times. Every single time, he had one foot in the grave."
"Dr. Wang had thirty-two encounters with him too. But... Dr. Wang has since resigned."
The nurses in the room listened silently. They knew.
This was the unkillable cockroach of psychiatric patients—forever dancing on the edge of death, yet always surviving.
"What did the Vice President say?" the chief physician asked.
It was a loaded question. He didn't need the answer. If it wasn't satisfactory, he was prepared to resign, go home, and look after his grandkids. Mental illness was terrifying.
One nurse responded:
"He said once the operation is done, he'll personally drive them back to Qingshan Psychiatric Hospital."
The chief physician's eyes lit up with hope.
"Alright then, everyone—focus up! I want these two gone from this hospital within three hours. Clear?"
"Yes, sir!"
In that moment, a divine fire seemed to ignite within the emergency team. A sacred aura blazed forth. They pushed themselves to the limit—not for glory, not for medicine…
But simply to protect this small piece of hallowed ground from being defiled again.
At the Hospital Entrance
An ambulance waited quietly outside.
The Vice President stood nearby, checking his exquisitely crafted, top-selling electronic watch.
"They should be ready by now."
The ambulance driver, humble and nervous, said:
"Vice President, sir... let me drive. There's no need for you to trouble yourself."
"Even if the King of Heaven himself showed up today, this ambulance—I drive it."
No one could stop him.
Moments later, doctors and nurses rolled out the two patients on stretchers, fresh from surgery.
"Get them on board. No matter what happens, we are returning these two to Qingshan Psychiatric Hospital today."
"Yes, sir."
Bee-boo! Bee-boo! Bee-boo!
The ambulance tore out of the hospital, careening around corners with such flair it nearly drifted. The Vice President's intent was clear: get rid of them, and fast.
It marked the first time in medical history that a vice hospital director personally chauffeured patients away.
Qingshan Psychiatric Hospital
Director Hao stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze sharp as a hawk, fixed firmly on the hospital gate.
"Dear heavens, please… not so soon…"
But when the ambulance came into view, he knew divine intervention had failed. They'd been mercilessly returned.
Downstairs
The Vice President took charge, directing doctors and nurses to unload the stretchers.
Two gurneys, side by side, placed ceremoniously at the entrance.
Director Hao approached, trying to reason one last time:
"Brother Li, this is a bit much. They haven't even fully recovered yet. Can't you let them stay a while longer? For my sake?"
Breath ragged, Vice President Li did something no one expected—
Thud!
He dropped to his knees.
"Director Hao. Brother Hao. Senior Hao… I beg you. Please have mercy on us."
"I'm on my knees."
Director Hao was stunned. His carefully prepared speech vanished into silence.
You're not playing by the rules. This is too damn ruthless…
"You didn't say anything, so I'll take that as a yes."
"I'll even leave you the gurneys as a token of brotherly affection."
"We're leaving now."
Not another word.
Not a single glance back.
Not even the ambulance's signature bee-boo siren was turned on.
They vanished like the wind.
Director Hao sighed deeply, stepping forward.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Great," Lin Fan replied.
Old Zhang, oxygen tubes in his nostrils, grinned.
Not only had they left him the stretcher—they'd thrown in an oxygen tank, too.
What a deal.
"I'm doing great too," he chimed.
Director Hao waved a hand, eyes closed.
"Send them back. Reinforce the locks."
"Understood."
Ward 666
Thanks to an emergency renovation, the room had been mostly restored. All hazardous equipment had been removed.
Old Zhang lay on the bed, thrashing slightly.
"I can't move! I'm tied down! What about you?"
"I'm cultivating," Lin Fan replied.
The Thousandfold Tempering Method had triggered changes within him. It felt incredible—energy coursed through his veins.
They had succeeded.
The Electric Shock Training Method—a success.
The Galactic Circulation Technique—also a success.
Upon hearing they were back, Director Hao felt oddly at peace. Maybe they'd stay quiet for a while. But still—he remained vigilant.
The Next Day
Lin Fan lay still, eyes shut—then suddenly snapped them open.
His gaze burned brighter than ever. Muscles rippled in his arms, and with a crack, the reinforced safety straps snapped clean in half.
"I feel amazing."
He walked to Old Zhang's bed, who was snoring peacefully.
Lin Fan reached out and pinched his nose shut.
Old Zhang nearly suffocated.
"What? What's wrong?"
"I need your help."
"Gladly," Old Zhang grinned.
In the Hallway
A construction worker was adjusting hallway fixtures when he suddenly felt someone standing behind him.
He turned in alarm—only to find an old man smiling eerily.
He nearly screamed.
Realizing it was just a person, he let out a shaky breath.
But the man's clothing made him tense.
A known psychiatric patient—still alive?
That meant trouble.
He subtly reached for his toolbox, searching for something—anything—for self-defense.
Old Zhang changed position, staring at him solemnly.
"Did you know?"
"Yes," the worker nodded without hesitation.
He didn't care what the question was. If a mental patient asks—just say yes. No arguments.
Zhang nodded in satisfaction.
"You have a bad face. Weak kidneys. Did you know that?"
"Yes," the worker replied, sweat dripping.
Meanwhile, Lin Fan silently lifted a tool from the box and slipped it into his waistband before casually walking off.
"Good. As long as you know. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
That brief, bizarre exchange was enough to make the worker feel like he had brushed against death.
(End of Chapter)