EPThttp://www.teamliquid.net/blogs/viewblog.php?id=392521
Still in 2001
Shenghan crinkled his nose at the smell of sterility, eyeballed the hospital hall. One security guard at a wraparound desk, busy flipping through a Hong Kong softcore rag under a sign that read "Long-term Care Ward". Shenghan appeared before the guard before he knew what was going on. A red-faced glance upward, fumbling the porno into a pile of papers under the desk, followed by a phrase, too quick. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Shenghan tapped a square card the guard had knocked askew that read DOCTOR ZHAO MEIREN. "Can I see the doctor?"
The guard's head was fat. He shook it. "Can't. Busy."
Shenghan noted the other card on the table, one NURSE CAO YIQIE, then walked to a crack in the door. The guard shrugged, resumed his surreptitious browsing. Through the door, Shenghan could faintly hear grunts and the creak of a hospital bed. No wonder the guard needed the softcore rag, he thought. The guy had to listen to this every day. Shenghan shook accumulated snow off his shoulders, sat down on a bench, and waited.
Ten minutes later, a strikingly handsome male nurse walked out of the room, adjusting his gloves and hairnet. He saw Shenghan, turned, and yelled into the room. "Doctor Zhao, there's a visitor!"
Rustles, then a delicate, thirtysomething doctor appeared, hurriedly buttoning up a white lab coat. "Zh--Zhang Shenghan. Of course, do come in."
Shenghan stepped in. The office was still the same. "Doctor Zhao, it's a pleasure." He noted the smell in the air; distinctly less sterile, he decided.
The doctor lit a cigarette to clear the air. "Sorry to keep you waiting like that." A moment of embarassed silence. "So what brings you here?"
Shenghan withdrew a cash envelope from a messenger bag, and a bottle of baby blue pills. "With compliments. These are the latest from America. They should help with your husband's... performance."
A small giggle, a flirtatious glance. Blueblood hands encircled the bottle and envelope. "Thanks."
Shenghan inhaled the thick odor of lovemaking, and breathed a sigh of relief. When Doctor Zhao's husband, some obese party functionary, had first encountered performance issues, she'd attempted to make Shenghan responsible for solving them. Good to know she's found someone else, he thought.
The Doctor counted the money with practiced fingers. "Oh, it's too much. Far too much. How could you--"
"Can it. You have a very important patient here, and you've taken good care of him." Shenghan did the mental tally again. Twenty thousand for the next month's long-term care fees, five for the doctor. "Just make sure he isn't disturbed for the next few weeks."
The Doctor nodded. "Got it. Anything else I should know?"
Shenghan looked out the window, then towards another closed door marked PATIENT ROOM NUMBER 1. "No."
From behind, the door crashed open. Shenghan turned around into a slap. The hand felt familiar. So did the voice.
"You!"
An angry blur: the security guard wrestling with Yilin in a black sweater, the male nurse rushing back down the hall.
"Let me go!"
Lines of sight: Shenghan to Yilin, Yilin to Doctor Zhao, Doctor Zhao to the security guard, the security guard to the needle in Nurse Cao's hands.
Shenghan looked at the woman, moved the guard's hands off her shoulders. "Miss Xia, he's not here. He's dead. We sent you the ashes."
"Liar! This hospital showed me a photo of the body, but it wasn't him. And now you're here, paying off everyone like the low-life you are."
A photo of three fingers and a jawbone? Shenghan turned to Doctor Zhao, who stared back like a deer caught in the headlights. "Miss Xia, look, I'm sorry, but your husband is undoubtedly dead. We're certain of it--"
Nurse Cao jammed something into the woman's neck. She slumped. Shenghan caught her. Gasps--what the fucks--puzzled glances--then a single voice ringing out to claim credit for the novocaine.
Shenghan leaned in close, his breath blowing flakes of ash off the end of Doctor Zhao's cigarette. "You guys sent her a picture?"
"Y-yes. We felt it would be more convincing--"
Shenghan to the grouping, cold as the Manchurian winter. "Come on. This isn't her father or brother we're talking about. This is her fiance, who she slept with every night. Don't you think she'd have a better idea of some hidden mole on his ass cheeks than we would?"
Nervous glances reflected off their faces. Finally, Shenghan shook his head. "I'll drive her back home." Then, with sarcasm: "Feel free to send me an invoice for the injection."
Nurse Cao disappeared and reappeared with a wheelchair. Shenghan sat the woman into it and left without a backward glance. Behind him, the security guard resumed reading the softcore magazine.
Read part 8 here:
http://www.teamliquid.net/blogs/viewblog.php?topic_id=393964
