Chapter 30

Geng Jianghui adjusted his glasses again and looked at Zhao Qisheng in disbelief. “How has she survived with a tumour that size?”
And Jiang Shan looked like she could eat and sleep normally—as if it didn’t affect her.
The tumour was undoubtedly malignant and in a critical part of the brain. Jiang Shan wasn’t just a medical miracle; she was a medical marvel.
Zhao Qisheng said thoughtfully: “The institute said she doesn’t remember what happened on the mountain. That would make sense.”
If the tumour pressed on memory nerves, amnesia was possible.
Who would have thought the only survivor was also terminally ill with cancer. For a moment, though they knew they shouldn’t, everyone felt a pang of regret.
If she had been healthy, she might have been able to tell them what had really happened at the cave hotel and on the mountain.
As it was, they still knew nothing.
…
“Have her blood test results come back?”
Jiang Shan had no idea she had already been through hundreds of tests—head to toe, every strand of hair X-rayed.
“Not yet,” Zhao Qisheng said. “You know—many instruments have been ‘failing’ lately…”
What used to take half an hour for a report might now take a day.
The two national treasures looked at each other in silence. They had run out of words. This was beyond their field.
—
Jiang Shan returned to the ward. Zhang Wanqiu had thoughtfully brought two extra pillows so she could sit propped against the headboard.
But Jiang Shan didn’t look any happier. She gazed at the white room. In the orphanage her room had had a window. This ward had none—only a door to the corridor. The whole room was white and unsettling.
“Is there a TV?” Jiang Shan asked.
Even the orphanage had had a TV.
Nurse Zhang paused. She said gently: “We don’t have TV in the hospital. How about… I find you some books? Do you like reading?”
She thought Jiang Shan was afraid of being bored.
In fact boredom was nothing new to Jiang Shan. The only lively time in her life had been that month of travel.
Thinking of the trip, her face went blank again.
Zhang Wanqiu watched her expression. “By the way, do you like listening to the radio?” she asked gently.
The radio… To be honest, Jiang Shan had barely heard the word in years.
No TV, but a radio?
Zhang Wanqiu seemed used to Jiang Shan’s silence. She took a palm-sized mini radio from her coat pocket and set it on the bedside table.
“You can listen to music. Music helps with mood and sleep.”
Nurse Zhang was clearly a professional—patient, kind, unfazed by Jiang Shan’s coldness.
Jiang Shan looked at the radio and said nothing.
No TV, no phone—no way to reach the outside world.