Chapter 3: Stone Fire, Dream Body

Within the hallowed halls of Qing Shan Hospital, as the hour hand of the clock touched half past eleven in the night, Old Liu, the venerable doctor on duty, was in the midst of brewing himself a robust cup of tea when, with a thunderous crash, the door to his chamber was flung open.

"What insolence is this?!" Old Liu roared, his voice laced with fury.

"Er Dao, pin him down!"

"Where shall I pin him?"

"Upon the table!"

Er Dao, a figure of imposing stature, strode towards Old Liu with meteoric steps. With a resounding 'dong,' he slammed the doctor's head onto the table's surface, a fiery agony searing half of the old man's face.

Meanwhile, Pao Ge, his gait deliberate and measured, ushered Chen Shuo and Wang Hui Ling into the ward. "Chen Shuo, confess! Did you accept fifty thousand taels from him, conspiring to confine his elder nephew within this asylum?"

Old Liu's roar of indignation echoed through the room. "To arms! To arms! A medical disturbance!"

The hurried patter of footsteps resounded from the corridor, yet Pao Ge remained unperturbed. He leisurely shed his Tang suit, slowly rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal arms adorned with intricate tattoos and bulging with sculpted muscle. It was the unveiling of a primordial beast before its quarry, and all who fell under his gaze felt a sudden urge to cherish their own lives.

As two male nurses materialized at the doorway, Pao Ge, with a slight shift of his body to the right, deftly evaded an incoming strike. The next instant, a thunderous hook punch, like a bolt from the blue, connected with the jaw of one nurse, rendering him rigid and incapacitated. Before the other nurse could even react, Pao Ge, a blur of motion like an American leopard, flashed before him and delivered another devastating hook punch to the jaw!

"Too weak," Pao Ge drawled.

Only after the words escaped his lips did the thud of two bodies hitting the floor resonate. The two nurses, like felled timbers, lay unconscious.

Pao Ge turned, his gaze falling upon Old Liu, still pinned to the table. "Are there any more?"

"No... no more."

"Can you speak properly now?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Good. All three of you, squat in a line," Pao Ge commanded, pulling up a chair and settling into it, legs crossed. "Does Chen Ji truly suffer from a mental ailment?"

"No, no," Old Liu stammered. "His cognitive circuits are merely a touch irregular. He exhibits a mild propensity for violence and a tendency towards depression, but he is not truly afflicted."

Pao Ge lit a cigarette. "Strange. If he foresaw your schemes, why did he still allow himself to be ensnared?"

"He intended to use you to exact his revenge upon us!"

Pao Ge shook his head. "Incorrect. Had he specifically sought me for a loan, he surely would have known my ways. He could have simply offered me silver and demanded your legs in return. Why subject himself to confinement in a madhouse?"

Chen Shuo remained silent, a picture of despair.

Pao Ge's gaze sharpened. "Were his parents' deaths your doing?"

Tears welled in Chen Shuo's eyes. "His parents perished in a carriage accident. The driver responsible has been apprehended. It has no connection to us, I swear!"

Pao Ge motioned for Chen Shuo to extend a hand, then flicked the ash from his cigarette onto the man's palm. "To scheme against a seventeen-year-old orphan whose parents have been gone for but half a year, to covet their dwelling... you are truly devoid of virtue. And you, old doctor, have you engaged in such acts before?"

Old Liu hastened to explain. "I have never harmed another! The patients I have attended to were those who, having committed misdeeds, sought to evade the judgment of the courts and proactively sought my diagnosis."

"Oh?" Pao Ge mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What sort of misdeeds did these individuals commit?"

"The most recent was a scoundrel named Wang Long, involved in the earthworks trade. Half a year ago, he drove his carriage and struck down a couple..." As Old Liu spoke, his gaze suddenly fixed upon Pao Ge, terror seizing him.

With a sharp hiss, Pao Ge, seemingly lost in thought, pressed the smoldering cigarette butt onto Chen Shuo's palm. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the corridor.

Pao Ge donned his black Tang suit, gripped Old Liu's sparse hair, and dragged him towards the exit. "I understand now why he insisted on entering this madhouse. To harm a child of such innocence... you are truly lacking in great virtue. Er Dao, administer a memorable punishment to them. I shall take this doctor to the sixth floor. I know of this Wang Long; he is not easily dealt with."

Chen Shuo trembled like a leaf in a storm. "This is a hospital! There is surveillance! You cannot engage in violence here!"

Er Dao scratched at the scar etched upon his bald head. "Pao Ge, immediate execution?"

"Repeated execution."

Within the ward, the rhythmic symphony of snoring filled the air. Chen Ji lay upon his cot, eyes wide open, silently contemplating the ceiling. He had discovered that the dream-talk within the mental hospital was particularly abundant and exceptionally difficult to decipher.

In a haze, he seemed to drift back to his childhood, again hearing the rhythmic clang of the green-skinned train as it began its journey. As a child, Chen Ji had been frail and sickly. In his dreams, he constantly heard the sounds of shouting and killing, forcing his father to frequently take him to the capital city in search of a physician. When money was scarce, they would purchase standing tickets on the green-skinned train. They would sit in the open space between two carriages. When Chen Ji grew weary, he would rest in his father's embrace and sleep. When hunger struck, his father would retrieve instant noodles from his satchel, join the queue for hot water, and hold the bowl for him to eat first.

Upon waking, Chen Ji would press his face against the train window like a curious child of ten thousand whys, ceaselessly posing strange questions. His father would patiently answer each one. Later, when he reached the age of twelve, his illness abated, and his father's business prospered, allowing them to purchase a grand villa.

On summer nights, his mother would teach him to use a flashlight to search for cicadas that had just emerged from the earth in their yard. After soaking them in salt water, she would fry them for him to eat. During the New Year, his mother and Chen Ji would together cut out window patterns, paste spring couplets, and steam beautifully shaped flower-shaped buns.

Lying in bed, Chen Ji, in a daze, gently wiped away the tears that traced paths down his cheeks.

Li Qing Niao, unnoticed, had approached his bedside. "Now, if you sell me one thing, I can answer another question for you."

Chen Ji's eyes, though empty, held a profound depth. "What do you wish to purchase?"

"A cicada."

"Of what age?"

"A twelve-year-old cicada."

"I will not sell."

At that moment, the pained cries of Chen Shuo from downstairs echoed through the hospital corridors.

There was no time left.

Chen Ji, with a swift motion, sprang from his bed. From a strap concealed within his inner thigh, he retrieved a dagger, discarding the sheath, and raced towards a specific location within the ward. He was afraid, afraid of the act he was about to commit, and afraid of the consequences that would follow. But he had no other choice.

Wang Long, in a drunken stupor, had struck and killed a man and a woman, fleeing the scene. The victims, due to the delay in receiving treatment, had perished. The following day, Wang Long had surrendered to the authorities, but not before obtaining a diagnosis certificate from Qing Shan Mental Hospital. The court had initially intended to review the certificate, but Wang Long's family had gathered over sixty earthworks drivers to cause a disturbance at the courthouse. In the end, nothing came of it, and Wang Long evaded judgment, taking up residence in Qing Shan Hospital.

But how could one truly escape judgment?

Chen Ji, silent as a shadow, arrived at Wang Long's bedside and forcefully plunged the dagger downwards.

Wang Long's eyes snapped open. With hands of formidable strength, he seized Chen Ji's wrist. A cold laugh escaped his lips. "Did you truly believe I would not recognize you?"

During the lawsuit, Chen Ji had consistently been represented by his lawyer, thus he and Wang Long had never met. However, Wang Long, seeking reconciliation with the families of the deceased victims, had naturally engaged others to investigate him. Thus, upon seeing Chen Ji appear here, Wang Long immediately understood the youth's intent.

"I can compensate you with more silver!" he urgently offered. "A great deal of silver! Your parents are gone. You must learn to look towards the future!" He had no desire to kill again. If he were to kill again, he would be confined here for the rest of his days.

Chen Ji, in silence, pressed the tip of the blade downwards with unwavering determination, inch by inch, towards Wang Long's chest.

"Seeking death!" Wang Long roared, his strength ultimately surpassing that of the youth. He angrily snatched the dagger from Chen Ji's grasp and, with a backhand motion, plunged it into Chen Ji's left side, piercing his ribs. Wang Long had initially believed this strike would be enough to incapacitate Chen Ji entirely. However, he had not anticipated that in the very moment he seized the knife, Chen Ji would not resist in the slightest. Instead, taking advantage of the gap left by Wang Long's opened hands, the youth, like a wild beast, lunged and sank his teeth into the artery in Wang Long's neck!

Blood continuously seeped from Chen Ji's lips and teeth, staining the pillow a dark purple hue. Chen Ji tasted the coppery sweetness in his mouth, felt the spray of blood entering his mouth, and the subsequent flow outwards. This was his first act of killing for revenge, and he was trembling with fear, yet he bit down with a death grip, refusing to let go.

Wang Long felt the agonizing pain in his neck, a sensation like an electric current that sent tremors through him. This was the chilling proximity of death. He withdrew the dagger embedded in Chen Ji's chest and abdomen and plunged it in again with savage force. "Let go!"

"Let go!"

"Let go..."

Along with the angry shout, each thrust of the knife into him was met with no reaction from Chen Ji. His teeth only clenched tighter and tighter, biting off a piece of flesh from Wang Long's neck. Wang Long's pupils began to dilate. As he twisted the dagger in his hand, he murmured, "Is it worth it? Is it worth it...?"

But Wang Long failed to comprehend. To Chen Ji, his life had effectively ended in that carriage accident, leaving him in an endless, inescapable state.

Dark purple blood overflowed the white pillow, much like it was overflowing from Chen Ji's life.

With a sharp 'ka da,' the iron door of the ward was opened from the outside. Pao Ge, still clad in his black Tang suit and gripping Old Liu's hair, appeared at the doorway. Wang Long's right hand finally loosened its grip on the knife handle, hanging limply. Chen Ji, his face covered in fresh blood, then lifted his head to look at Pao Ge. He was trembling uncontrollably, whether from fear or the aftermath of an adrenaline surge, he could not tell.

Pao Ge sighed. "I arrived too late."

Chen Ji slumped onto the foot of the bed, covering the wound in his waist. He softly spoke to Pao Ge. "I'm sorry."

Pao Ge understood the youth's apology referred to his being used. He grinned. "It is nothing. Though you are about to depart, it is not too late for us to know one another. My true name is Chen Chong. My friends are fond of calling me Pao Ge."

"Very well, Pao Ge."

"Your first kill? You made no sound before, you struck with full force when the time came, not a single unnecessary word. I like that," Pao Ge said, kicking Old Liu to the side and lighting another cigarette for himself.

Chen Ji offered a bitter laugh. "I still have not died." As he spoke, blood continued to gurgle from his wound.

"Care for a smoke?"

"I do not smoke."

"Do you require assistance?"

"My mobile device is with Doctor Liu. It should contain recordings of his illicit transactions with my second uncle. Please ensure it is sent out."

Pao Ge had not anticipated that this youth, in the throes of death, would still remember to exact vengeance upon every enemy...

He sat beside Chen Ji and asked, "Do you have any other final wishes?"

"None," Chen Ji's voice grew weaker and weaker. A wave of fatigue washed over him, yet he refused to close his eyes, instead gazing blankly at the window outside, where the crescent moon hung like a hook.

Within the ward, the patients slowly rose, silently watching from the sidelines. Li Qing Niao approached Chen Ji's side, gently stroked the youth's eyes, and softly spoke. "Alas, a chasm in a horse, a stone in fire, a dream within the body. Forty-nine layers of heaven cannot hold you. Go, go to the place where you ought to be."

Having spoken, he resumed his vacant demeanor and sat by the bedside. Pao Ge draped his black Tang suit over Chen Ji's body, then turned and walked towards the darkness beyond the ward. "A pity," he murmured. "I knew him too late."