Chapter Seventeen: Seeking Medical Attention
Shengyao’s attempt at persuasion was met with a bitter smile from the young man.
“It’s not that easy to see a doctor… just registering for an appointment eats up half the day, I have to take time off. I was working on something important, and today our project leader gave me special permission so I didn’t have to work overtime and could come back earlier…” Liu Yu was dejected, his voice low and dispirited, but his words spilled out rapidly, as though they’d been bottled up inside for too long. Once he’d said it all, he seemed a little relieved, yet somehow even more troubled, his head dropping once again.
Shengyao didn’t try to comfort Liu Yu—perhaps the other didn’t need it.
“There’s a clinic about half an hour’s walk from here, just turn the corner… well, for you, maybe ten, fifteen minutes. The name’s odd—‘Monster Clinic’. It’s open till very late, just closed a moment ago. If you get off work early tomorrow, or come by in the morning, you should check it out. The doctor there is excellent. This little problem of yours…” Shengyao glanced at Liu Yu’s blood-stained sleeve, “should be easy to fix.”
It’s overkill, he thought to himself. He wondered if the doctor would take this patient. He probably would; after all, the clinic was tucked away in an old residential area, likely not aiming for grand ambitions—probably welcoming all comers.
Liu Yu tugged at the corner of his mouth, “Thanks.”
Thinking of the enthusiastic owner of the Cute Critters Pet Shop, Shengyao couldn’t help but add, “Remember to go. Get it treated early.”
Liu Yu nodded, thanking Shengyao again.
Shengyao tossed his empty lunch box and headed for the bus stop across the street. Before boarding, he waved to Liu Yu from across the road.
Liu Yu, staring out the window, waved back. The bus pulled away. Liu Yu sat for a moment, gazing at the now-cold leftovers in his lunch container, and sighed deeply.
Getting off work early, coming in early… easier said than done.
He got up, threw away the lunch box, and left the convenience store slowly.
He really should’ve gone home sooner—showered, slept. He had to be at work early tomorrow. But today, getting off three hours ahead of schedule and catching the evening rush, he found himself at a loss, wandering until it was the usual time. He should have used this extra time to buy ointment at the pharmacy…
Night and moonlight, deserted streets, empty roads—this was his familiar environment, but it didn’t bring comfort. His steps felt leaden, as if mired in a swamp, each movement a struggle.
His arm no longer itched, the scratched skin seemed to have scabbed, but tomorrow it would start all over again.
Absent-mindedly, Liu Yu touched his left arm, scratching instinctively, and sensed fresh blood seeping beneath his sleeve.
Zzz…
Zzz.
He stopped, squinting against a sudden flare of light beside him. He released his right hand from scratching and raised his arm to shield his eyes. Through the glare, he saw a neon sign, red as blood.
“Monster Clinic…” Liu Yu paused in surprise.
This was the place that kid had mentioned…
He’d thought the high school or college-aged boy was joking. Who names a clinic that? It must be some trendy shop—staff dressed as doctors, selling novelty products.
He lowered his hand and peered inside.
Tiled floor, white walls, two potted plants by the door, a lobby furnished with the long benches common to public offices, facing the entrance were the triage desk and registration. Laminated posters covered the walls, filled with advice on common ailments.
Liu Yu found it intriguing. He’d never seen a clinic like this. Small dental offices and old-fashioned herbal halls were common enough near his rented place, but those always felt grubby—either from years of accumulated grime or mismatched traditional decor, neither inspiring confidence. This clinic was different.
After a moment’s hesitation, he pushed open the glass door.
“Excuse me, is anyone here?” Liu Yu’s steps were tentative as he entered.
If there really was a doctor here, he could get some medicine now and avoid the trip to the pharmacy.
With this in mind, he went to the triage desk, glancing around—two short corridors led off, each with two or three rooms.
Tap, tap…
Click.
Footsteps and a door opening came from the right corridor.
Liu Yu turned and saw a sign marked ‘Consultation Room’ on the open door. Out stepped a doctor. No introduction was needed; the crisp white coat, medical mask, and cap made his identity clear.
Liu Yu nodded, “Hello, is it possible to register and see a doctor now?”
He belatedly recalled the boy’s words from earlier—“the clinic’s closed.”
“Come in.” The doctor called out, turning back into the consultation room.
Liu Yu pulled himself together and trotted over. “Sorry, is it after hours? I’m sorry to bother you. I just have a bit of an allergy, my skin itches, it’s been days now, I’ve scratched it raw and it’s bleeding…”
He was explaining when he heard another door open in the corridor, but before he could look, he was already following the doctor inside.
The room was spacious—a desk, two chairs, a medicine cabinet, an examination bed.
The doctor sat at the desk, pulling out the sole file in the tray.
“Fill out your basic information.” He placed a form on the table.
Liu Yu sat down and frowned at the densely packed fields for name, address, phone number, and so on.
“I didn’t bring my insurance card, just want some ointment,” he explained, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his left arm, covered in clusters of red dots.
Some were under the skin, some had broken through and bled, others had scabbed over.
“Do you have ointment for this?” Liu Yu asked, “Do you take mobile payments? I didn’t bring cash.” He hadn’t checked for payment options at the reception, and saw no QR code or card reader here.
The doctor glanced at Liu Yu, but didn’t look at his arm. “Oh.”
What did that mean? Liu Yu wondered as the doctor stood and went to the medicine cabinet. He relaxed.
Small clinics like this were so much more convenient than big hospitals. He just hoped their ointments actually worked…
He hurried to add, “I think it’s an allergy causing the itch. Usually it’s fine, only flares up at work—” He stopped mid-sentence, as if recalling something unpleasant, his face darkening.
A face surfaced in his mind: his coworker, Brother Yu.
Brother Yu’s full name was Yu Guangchun, assigned as Liu Yu’s ‘mentor’ when he first joined the company.
Liu Yu’s brow furrowed at the thought, his mood worsening. He felt his left arm start to itch again.
He was about to scratch when a hand grabbed his arm first.
Snapping back to himself, Liu Yu looked up just as a long needle appeared. Before he could react, it pierced his arm, and the transparent liquid in the syringe was injected.
The motions—injecting and withdrawing—were seamless. By the time Liu Yu processed what had happened, the doctor had released him.
“What are you doing! What did you inject me with?” Liu Yu jumped up, overturning his chair, his anxious voice overpowering even the clatter of wood on the floor.
The image of Yu Guangchun disappeared, replaced by all the urban legends circulating online. Nowadays, urban legends weren’t about ghosts—they were bloody, tales of stolen kidneys or HIV infection.
Sweating and panicked, Liu Yu pressed a hand to the injection site, then quickly released it, searching for a puncture mark.
There were plenty of red spots, but no needle mark.
He looked at the doctor.
The doctor, still holding the syringe, gazed at him calmly: “I’m treating you.”
Only now did Liu Yu notice the doctor’s eyes—an uncanny shade of deep blue. The doctor’s fingers gripping the syringe were adorned with strange faces drawn on the nails.
Liu Yu stepped back.
That kid really did send him somewhere odd. Was this… was this some place dealing drugs?
Sweating profusely, Liu Yu took another step back.
Tap, tap…
Footsteps sounded outside.
He remembered this was their territory—two corridors, several rooms, anyone could be lurking inside. The news always said drug rings were nothing to mess with.
He spun around and ran.
“Ouch!”
He glimpsed a figure and heard a woman’s startled cry, but didn’t stop, bolting out of the clinic without looking back.
Bai Xiao clutched her chest, pressing her back against the wall. She stared, bewildered, at Liu Yu’s fleeing form, then hesitantly peered into the consultation room.
“Doctor, what happened? Was that a patient?”
The doctor, seated at the desk, was busily filling out the information form with his pen, then began drafting a medical record, ignoring Bai Xiao’s questions.
She glanced at the syringe on the desk, then withdrew and slipped out quietly.
Now only the doctor remained, but besides the scratch of his pen, there was the faint sound of suppressed laughter and weeping, intermittent and tinged with excitement, as if awaiting the next act.
...
Liu Yu didn’t stop running until he was far away, gasping for breath, hands on knees, sweat dripping onto the sidewalk and staining the stone tiles with dark spots.
He pressed his chest, unsure whether his racing heart was from panic or the injection.
He raised his arm to check it carefully.
Should… should he call the police?
But would it help?
The clinic was out in the open, right by the street, drawing in school-aged kids. Besides, if he reported it, wouldn’t he be investigated too? If that injection really was…
Restless, Liu Yu stood for a while, then staggered off.
Better head home. Sleep. Whatever… whatever, he still had to work tomorrow.
He told himself he’d deal with it after work…
But the unease wouldn’t fade.
Liu Yu’s ‘home’ was a rented apartment—forty square meters, two bedrooms and a living room. He had a south-facing room and half the living room. His roommate worked in the same field but at another company, one with better pay and benefits. At first, Liu Yu could comfort himself with the lighter workload, but now their schedules were much the same.
Opening the door, he found the living room dark, no sound of snoring—his roommate wasn’t back yet.
Of course… today he’d come home early.
Getting off work early, and so much had happened…
Annoyed, he glanced at his left arm.
He stopped mid-motion, holding his arm up, unmoving.
The bleeding points and scabs were gone, his skin smooth as if he’d never been ill.
Amazed, Liu Yu wondered—was that injection really medicine? Had the doctor cured him?
The joy lasted only a second before anxiety returned.
He’d been cured, but had misjudged the doctor, ran off, didn’t even pay…
Wait! Some drugs induce hallucinations, make you forget pain.
What if it really was drugs?
His mind spun with conflicting thoughts.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated.
Liu Yu reflexively pulled it out, seeing a new message pinned in the company group chat:
[@Everyone: Tomorrow’s morning meeting moved up to 9AM]
Instantly, fatigue washed over him, and all worries were drowned by exhaustion.
...
The next morning, Shengyao woke naturally, the sky still gray.
He felt disoriented, then remembered he’d been waking at this hour ever since Qingming, just to visit Bai Xiao at Longevity Cemetery.
Thinking of Bai Xiao, Shengyao still felt a sense of unreality.
He pinched his thigh, foolishly—
“Hiss!”
The pain was real; so last night really happened.
Covering his face, Shengyao felt on the verge of tears from joy.
He didn’t cry, but his mouth stretched wide in a strange, hissing laugh, then he suddenly dropped his hands and laughed out loud.
After a while, he exhaled, “...It’s wonderful…”
He gazed at the ceiling, eyes unfocused.
“Ah… Longevity Cemetery… I should tell Chen Jin, and that kid Wu…” he muttered.
He’d left carrying Bai Xiao, while Chen Jin and the others were still searching for her. Bai Xiao had startled them before, causing trouble at the cemetery. They were all kind people—he couldn’t let them keep worrying.
Then his thoughts shifted to his grandparents’ tombstone.
He closed his eyes.
His parents were gone; Bai Xiao’s parents had passed too. Her father-in-law had only just died, not even past the forty-nine days.
If the doctor could bring Bai Xiao back, could he…
Shengyao’s heart beat faster.
One shouldn’t be greedy, but seeing Bai Xiao revived, he couldn’t help wanting more.
With a burst of energy, he sprang up from bed, like a nineteen-year-old boy, and dashed to the bathroom.
After washing, he dressed quickly, grabbed two big bags from the living room, and hurried out.
...
At the same time, Liu Yu was woken by his alarm.
He silenced it and, unlike Shengyao, didn’t linger in bed; he got up immediately, dressed, washed, and shouldered his backpack, rushing out.
He was early, but not the first at the office.
He paused when he saw who was there.
“Xiao Liu, you’re early. Is your skin alright? Did you see a doctor?” Yu Guangchun, sporting two dark circles under his eyes, smiled, “I bought breakfast—rice rolls or meat buns, which do you want?”
Liu Yu pressed his lips together, “No need, I…”
“Don’t be so polite. I picked them up downstairs. Eating together tastes better. I’ll need your help today. I was coding all night, hope it passes testing…” Yu Guangchun slung an arm around Liu Yu’s shoulders, leaning against Liu Yu’s left arm.
In that instant, Liu Yu felt the itching in his left arm return, but unlike before, this itch felt as though something was writhing and crawling just beneath his skin, eager to burst forth.
He pushed Yu Guangchun away, clutching his left arm.
Yu Guangchun blinked, “What’s wrong? Oh! That’s right, your skin’s itchy here, huh? Did you use ointment?”
Liu Yu shook his head hard, “I need the restroom!”
He didn’t even put down his bag, bolting from the office.
Hiding in a stall, Liu Yu rolled up his sleeve.
His left arm was smooth, untouched, no trace of anything odd; the crawling sensation seemed to have been his imagination.
He exhaled, but worry about yesterday’s unresolved dilemma returned.
“Xiao Liu!” Yu Guangchun called from outside.
Liu Yu’s nerves tightened.
“Stomachache? I brought some antacids, want one?” Yu Guangchun’s footsteps moved closer.
Liu Yu listened to the approaching steps and voice, his eardrums vibrating uncontrollably. He wanted to refuse, but felt a strange sensation in his left arm.
He lowered his eyes and saw his skin writhing.
His skin… was writhing…
Like there was a single—no, tens of thousands of insects—busily scurrying beneath. The skin bulged and dipped, rising and falling, pushed by the bugs underneath. The muscles beneath his skin sent waves of prickling sensation.
Liu Yu’s scalp tingled; he froze, utterly rigid.