Chapter 34

That feeling had first come when she woke in the tent.
Zhang Wanqiu pushed the door open with a smile. “How did you sleep?”
Jiang Shan looked at her. She suspected there might be a camera in the ward—every time she woke, the nurse appeared on cue.
The strength in her limbs also made her wonder: was this hospital really treating her?
Just then Jiang Shan thought to look at the ceiling corner again. Clean. White.
No black substance. No trace.
So had it been a “dream” again? She frowned.
Zhang Wanqiu seemed used to her silence. She took Jiang Shan’s blood pressure and temperature as usual and said with a smile: “Good. Stable.”
Jiang Shan didn’t reply. What terminally ill patient cared whether their temperature and blood pressure were stable?
Her gaze swept the bedside. The book was gone. The radio was still there. Zhang Wanqiu said by her ear: “I’ll bring you breakfast.”
Jiang Shan slowly pushed back the blanket. “I need the washroom.”
Zhang Wanqiu had just put the thermometer in her breast pocket. She paused. “All right. I’ll take you.”
Jiang Shan didn’t really need an escort—but she knew Zhang Wanqiu would probably not let her go alone. So she let Zhang Wanqiu help her out of bed. In fact she was strong enough now; she didn’t need help. But she stayed silent and let Zhang Wanqiu do as she pleased.
As they neared the door Jiang Shan turned back and pointed at the radio. “Can I take this?”
Bathroom reading—since there was no reading material, listening to the radio would do.
Zhang Wanqiu paused. “… Of course.” Was she planning to stay in there for three hours?
Jiang Shan took the radio and followed Zhang Wanqiu slowly to the washroom—same as before, two stalls, one door broken.
She sat on the toilet and twisted the radio knobs.
She had only wanted to see if the signal changed in a different place. Unfortunately it didn’t. Maybe the short distance from ward to toilet wasn’t enough to affect the signal.
She hadn’t hoped for much. After a few more minutes she flushed to pretend she was done and left the stall.
As she was about to head for the door she stopped. She slowly looked up. In a corner above the stall she saw a faint patch of black.
It didn’t look like mould or dirt—just a small patch, as if seeping from inside.
…
Zhang Wanqiu had heard the flush. Jiang Shan was taking longer than expected. She watched Jiang Shan’s expression. “How are you? Any discomfort?”
Jiang Shan rubbed her stomach. “My stomach was a bit upset. It’s fine now.”
Zhang Wanqiu’s brow relaxed. She took Jiang Shan’s arm and they walked back to the ward.
Back in the ward Jiang Shan set the radio on the bedside table. Zhang Wanqiu soon brought breakfast—still steaming.
Jiang Shan ate normally. Then Zhang Wanqiu handed her a cup of green liquid. “Vegetable and fruit juice.”
A genuine “green” drink. Jiang Shan looked at the “juice,” took a sip—very bland, neither vegetable nor fruit. But Zhang Wanqiu was watching, so she drank it little by little.