A Bad-Hearted Doctor is Unbearably Beautiful - Chapter 78

The header of the receipt bore the logo of a private hospital under Zhai Hongtian’s corporate umbrella. It was a standard medical template, but the words written on it were incredibly strange.

Lu Xiao glanced at it, perplexed, before frowning and sliding the slip toward Shen Zhao. “Take a look at this. I’m not joking, the way you doctors write is just bizarre! Tell me honestly, do you medical students have your own secret language?”

Shen Zhao picked up the receipt, looking down intently at the string of strange characters. He slowly smoothed the paper with his fingers.

Lu Xiao continued to grumble beside him. “It’s all squiggles and flourishes. Can you translate that into human for me?”

Shen Zhao cross-referenced the handwritten script, typing the equivalent characters into his phone:

[M-45 X003 | Donor Match | Target: C15 | Medical Special Clearance]

“Are you certain this fell off Zhai Hongtian?” Shen Zhao’s voice was heavy.

Wu Fang hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded. “When I was working in Shanghai, I cleaned that house almost every day. I had never seen this before. It only appeared after Zhai Hongtian had visited.”

Shen Zhao fell silent for a long beat. He took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the words “Donor Match.”

Seeing Shen Zhao’s expression turn increasingly grim, Lu Xiao grew serious as well. “Well? What does it mean? Does it have something to do with Xiao Cheng?”

Shen Zhao didn’t speak. He just stared at the ink. In his professional world, those words usually referred to matching tests for organ transplants. As for the other codes… a terrifying theory began to take shape in the back of his mind.

Shen Zhao wanted to look for more information on the slip, but suddenly—

Lu Xiao made a sharp “shush” motion. His hand moved quickly, signaling Wu Fang to pull the curtains shut.

Lu Xiao’s movements were lightning-fast, fueled by pure instinct. He turned, his hand already discreetly reaching for the service weapon at his waist. He scanned the room and grabbed a sturdy fruit knife, handing it to Shen Zhao as a makeshift weapon.

The room fell into a deathly silence. The three of them stood frozen, barely daring to breathe. While Lu Xiao kept his eyes on the exterior, he used his other hand to snap a photo of the receipt in Shen Zhao’s hand and sent it to Wang Deng.

“Light the stove and burn it,” Lu Xiao whispered.

Wu Fang quickly turned on the gas stove to a low flame and dropped the slip of paper into the fire.

Shen Zhao instinctively held his breath. The two men moved to shield Wu Fang, their ears straining to catch any sound from outside. As the night grew darker, the distant cry of a bird echoed, but Lu Xiao was certain he had caught the sound of footsteps—steps that were being placed very lightly… very carefully.

Lu Xiao stood by the window, turning sideways to peel back a corner of the curtain with his fingertip. Using the moonlight, he peered outside.

His gaze turned predatory. “Wu Fang, the two of us are leaving right now. Lock and seal the windows, the doors, and every possible entrance. Memorize my number. If anyone strange comes looking for you in the next few days, do not open the door. Call me immediately!”

Wu Fang’s face was ash-white. She nodded vacantly, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“Retreat.”

Lu Xiao took the lead, grabbing Shen Zhao’s hand as they stepped quickly out of the yard.

Outside, only a few old trees stood silent, their withered leaves swaying in the breeze. The village road ahead was pitch black without streetlights. At a glance, there was no one in sight.

Lu Xiao’s eyes darted sharply in every direction, his fingers gripping his gun. He hadn’t felt this sensation—the feeling of being watched, of being the prey—in years.

They moved rapidly toward the main road where the streetlights were. The silhouettes of the distant mountains were blurred in the darkness; the path beneath their feet was uneven, a trail of dirt and stones slick with mud from the wastewater discarded by the villagers.

Shen Zhao walked cautiously, his mind a chaotic mess, but every nerve in his body was pulled taut, ready to react to danger.

“We’re almost there…” Lu Xiao’s voice whispered in his ear. Suddenly—

THUD!

A dull, heavy impact.

Shen Zhao felt himself being violently yanked backward as Lu Xiao lunged in front of him.

“Watch out!” Lu Xiao barked.

The next second, a dark shadow lunged from the gloom, wielding a thick wooden club that whistled through the air in a horizontal arc.

Both men’s muscles snapped into action. Lu Xiao leaned back to dodge the first strike; the club slammed into the ground, sending dirt and pebbles flying.

Before they could find their footing, more shadows swarmed from the darkness. In the moonlight, Shen Zhao could see the glint of teeth and the cold sheen of sickles, clubs, and wood-cutting axes.

Shen Zhao’s back was instantly drenched in cold sweat.

“Run!” Lu Xiao gritted out. He grabbed Shen Zhao’s hand and they bolted in the opposite direction.

A figure chased them down. Lu Xiao feinted, leading the man to trip over his own feet. Using the opening, Lu Xiao locked the man’s arm behind his back and snatched the club from his hand.

As he prepared to stand, a shadow flickered on the ground. A split second later, a heavy blow landed squarely on Lu Xiao’s back. He staggered, nearly falling forward.

Shen Zhao panicked and reached out to pull him up. Lu Xiao hissed a curse, spun around, and delivered a sweeping kick to the man lunging behind them. The attacker was a stout, short man who stumbled back a few steps but immediately tightened his grip on his weapon and charged again.

“Shen Zhao!”

A cold blade whistled past Shen Zhao’s face. He realized with a jolt that several more figures had appeared around them. The man with the short knife had a vicious look in his eyes, but his movements didn’t suggest a trained assassin—more like a desperate, lawless thug.

“Dammit!”

Lu Xiao kicked a pile of roadside trash, sending rotten vegetable leaves and sugarcane husks flying to mask their position and stall two of the attackers. He held his pistol up as a deterrent, but the sheer number of assailants and the speed of their advance made it impossible to fire without a high risk of killing someone.

Lu Xiao didn’t have time to think. He lunged forward, using the tip of the captured club to strike the wrist of a man raising an axe. But in his peripheral vision, he saw a blade thrusting straight for Shen Zhao!

“Shen Zhao, get down!”

In a flash of lightning, Lu Xiao threw himself forward, pulling Shen Zhao into his embrace to shield him. Simultaneously, he felt a sudden, icy chill in his back as the blade sank between his ribs. Pain instantly flooded his entire body.

Shen Zhao’s pupils contracted. His entire world went still.