Chapter 33

Zhang Wanqiu came every day to take Jiang Shan’s blood pressure, temperature and other basics. More importantly, Jiang Shan could finally eat normal meals here.
Three meals a day, each one hot and freshly made. After her unsettled life, the food in front of her felt unreal. Balanced meals—meat, eggs, vegetables, fruit—something she had never had in her nineteen years.
Zhang Wanqiu saw Jiang Shan staring at the food without eating. “What’s wrong? Doesn’t it suit you?”
Jiang Shan looked at the food, then glanced at the ceiling corner.
The corner was clean and white.
But she seemed to see something black moving there—like the food in the cave hotel’s freezer.
She couldn’t eat anymore.
The whole ward was spotless—and it made her uneasy.
She looked at Zhang Wanqiu and asked out of the blue: “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
She still remembered Zhao Ying and Zhang Zheng avoiding her like poison.
A gleam flashed in Zhang Wanqiu’s eyes before she could hide it. She smiled gently again. “Why would you ask something so strange?”
What kind of logic was it for a nurse to be afraid of a patient?
Jiang Shan looked at her. She had only been testing—she hadn’t expected such a clear reaction.
She still didn’t know what they were “afraid” of. But if Zhao Ying and the others had been that scared, there was no reason… Zhang Wanqiu wouldn’t be afraid too.
The main thing: since she had woken up, the only “medical staff” she had seen was Nurse Zhang.
The “white coats” who had crowded around when she first woke—as if they had never existed. Like a dream.
But Jiang Shan had long known that what seemed like dreams was real.
Apart from the toilet, she was expected to stay in the ward. Even when she went to the washroom, Zhang Wanqiu went with her every time. Some might have felt cared for; Jiang Shan felt watched.
“I don’t have insurance. I can’t pay for the hospital stay.” Jiang Shan said slowly.
In the orphanage she had only had free monthly clinics. After she left she had lived on odd jobs—subsidized housing, street food, no benefits. She had known her condition; insurance had long since seemed pointless.
Better to save a little money for something else. Like… joining a tour to see the world.
Who knew fate would turn and disaster strike.
Zhang Wanqiu paused. She hadn’t expected Jiang Shan to worry about that. In their rehearsed list of questions Jiang Shan might ask, this wasn’t one of them…
Zhang Wanqiu’s mind raced. After a moment she forced a smile. “You don’t need to worry. Our hospital… we have a support fund for special patients. You don’t need to worry about medical fees while you’re here.”
A support fund for special patients—how convenient. Was this a hospital or the Red Cross?
Jiang Shan said nothing. She picked up her chopsticks and ate every last bite. A cancer patient’s way: you never knew how long you had; the first priority was to live in the moment.
Zhang Wanqiu was relieved by her cooperation. The hospital liked compliant patients. After two days Jiang Shan was the model patient—except for how little she spoke.
Zhang Wanqiu had guessed right: from childhood on, Jiang Shan had lived a “template” patient’s life.
…
Every day since she had woken, Jiang Shan felt a bit more strength in her limbs. Before, her arms and legs had always been weak—years of illness had hollowed her out. So when strength came for the first time, the feeling was almost unfamiliar.