The Zombie I Flirted With After Losing My Memory, Who Was Pretending to be an Alpha, Is Actually My Ex - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: The Ward

The sensation of having a gun pressed against one’s head was not pleasant in the least, but Teng Xi and the other two had no choice. It could be said that their weakness had been firmly grasped by others. Soon after, armed personnel stepped forward and plunged syringes into the skin of Xie Jinbing and the other woman.

“Hey! This is—” Before the word what could leave her mouth, Teng Xi’s arms were pinned behind her back, and a white cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth. A few seconds later, she lost consciousness completely.

Infinite darkness felt like a giant boulder, pinning Teng Xi down so she couldn’t move. Her consciousness gradually began to resurface, but her eyelids refused to open.

“Reading identity card… memory detection in progress… please do not move or speak…”

A saccharine, mechanical female voice reached her ears. The words were bewildering, and it took her some time to gradually process their meaning.

“Scanning for sensitive vocabulary and imagery… please do not move or speak…”

After an unknown amount of time, that voice—sounding as if it had been fished out of a honey pot—rang out again, sending a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

Teng Xi remained immobile. Only her awakening consciousness proved she was still alive. She desperately wanted to open her eyes, to know her current situation, and to know how Xie Jinbing was. Was she still in danger? But Teng Xi felt as though she had lost her sense of touch entirely; she couldn’t even twitch a finger.

A continuous “beep-beep” sound echoed in her ears, accelerating from slow to fast, making her head ache.

This lasted for an even longer period. Just as she was about to drift off, she finally heard a different sound—the rolling of wheels, rhythmic and hypnotic, making one feel drowsy.

Teng Xi ultimately could not resist and sank back into the darkness.

This time, she had a long, warm dream. She dreamed of an era without zombies. She and Xie Jinbing were walking down the street hand-in-hand, laughing and talking as they entered their shared home. They brewed a cup of coffee, sat on the balcony, and held each other while watching the sunset.

In the dream, she also heard the melodious sound of a violin. A child on stage, only three or four years old, was playing a tiny custom-made violin. Chubby little hands pressed the strings and drew the bow with great effort yet persistence. The soft, round face occasionally glanced toward a specific spot in the audience, wearing an expression that practically begged for praise.

The fiery red sunset and the pleasant violin music toggled back and forth in her mind. It was a bit chaotic, but she didn’t want to wake up at all; she preferred to remain intoxicated by this dreamscape.

A calm female voice abruptly sliced through the dream, sounding as if it drifted from the distant sky.

“37.2°C. The fever has started to break.”

She didn’t like this unfamiliar voice—it was cold and direct, as if reading a script. She struggled to wave her hand, wanting it to disappear from the scene.

“Stop once this bag is finished. Call me when she wakes up…” The woman’s voice drifted further away, and Teng Xi’s furrowed brow gradually relaxed.

When she woke up again, Teng Xi felt aches throughout her entire body. It felt as if she had been dismantled and then reassembled.

Raising her arm, the strange sensation—like controlling her body for the first time—made her uncomfortable.

“You’re awake?” At that moment, a nurse pushed the door open, carrying some monitoring equipment. Seeing Teng Xi’s posture as if she were about to lift the covers and get out of bed, the nurse hurried forward to hold her down. “Don’t move! Don’t move! You’ve just undergone testing; your body hasn’t fully recovered yet. Lie back down!”

Teng Xi was startled by the nurse’s final shout and obediently retreated into the bed. she tried to speak, only to find she couldn’t make a sound, and her body was as limp as a pile of mud.

“Stay lying down! I’m going to get someone.” The nurse glared at her threateningly again. Seeing Teng Xi being honest, she opened the door and walked away quickly.

Teng Xi observed her surroundings, trying hard to recall previous events. But her memory felt like an overstretched elastic band—it left wrinkles, making it difficult for those walking upon it. Her memories of what happened before were blurry; she only remembered the general gist.

She hadn’t forgotten the unconscious Xie Jinbing and Yao Zhi, but to her despair, there wasn’t another living soul in the room besides herself.

She reached out again to lift the quilt. Her legs didn’t have much strength, so she used both hands and feet to move them to the edge of the bed. After resting for a few seconds, she braced her hands against the edge and tried to stand up in one go.

Instead, she fell flat on her face.

“Is her IQ normal?” A slightly familiar female voice came from the ward door. The tone was steady—clearly a highly sarcastic remark, yet the delivery was so serious that one couldn’t detect a hint of mockery.

“Ah? Yes, normal.” The nurse looked at the patient fallen on the floor, then looked at the doctor beside her with some fear. She hurried forward to help Teng Xi up, her tone reproachful. “Didn’t I tell you to lie down properly?”

Teng Xi took a hard fall; her knees and forehead had various degrees of abrasions, but the pain brought back some sensation.

After the nurse helped Teng Xi back onto the bed, the doctor at the door finally walked in. Teng Xi fixed her gaze on her.

She wasn’t tall, about 165cm. Despite having a baby face, she wore a slightly mature curtain fringe, with her hair tied back in a bun. Under her white lab coat, she wore a white shirt and white casual pants. Most striking were the hand-stitched, thick-threaded cloth shoes on her feet—relics of the last century that stood in sharp contrast to her minimalist outfit.

Teng Xi wanted to ask where Xie Jinbing was, and where the others were, but not a single sound came out.

“Don’t bother trying. It’s a post-testing side effect; it’ll take at least three days to recover.” The doctor was concise. She measured Teng Xi’s forehead with a thermometer gun and then pressed a stethoscope all over her.

“Normal.” A few minutes later, the doctor spoke, and the little nurse hurriedly scribbled in a notebook.

She seemed somewhat afraid of the doctor, standing half a step behind her. Any slight movement from the doctor made her move like a startled rabbit.

Seeing the nurse finish writing, the doctor said, “Go on out.”

The nurse looked relieved and fled as if escaping, closing the door behind her. In truth, she didn’t understand why she felt such invisible pressure standing next to the doctor, especially since she wasn’t mean.

Silence fell over the room once more. Teng Xi, lacking any strength, sensibly gave up struggling. She lay motionless on the bed, eyes staring at the ceiling.

The sound of a chair being dragged—a piercing screech of metal legs against the floor—reached her ears. Teng Xi, lying on the bed, frowned in displeasure. If she could speak now, she probably would have blurted out a curse followed by a sarcastic remark like, ‘Don’t you have hands, or is your cerebellum too underdeveloped to lift a chair?‘

The doctor dragged the chair to Teng Xi’s bedside and pulled the blue partition curtain shut.

Teng Xi finally deigned to look at her, her face practically screaming: ‘What are you doing?‘, ‘I am a woman of good character‘, ‘It’s not quite right for a lonely man and woman to be in a room together, is it?‘

“Your eyes are too long. It’s ugly. I don’t like it,” the doctor sat down, crossing her legs. Her words were blunt and heart-piercing. After a pause, she added, “I don’t like Alphas. Conceited and violent.”

Teng Xi’s eyes widened in disbelief. These were called narrow phoenix eyes! The standard for a beautiful “top”! Does this woman even have eyes? And was the gender-based attack really necessary?

The doctor maintained a calm expression, as if the words she just spoke weren’t subjective opinions, but objective facts.

“There is a monitor in the room,” the woman explained succinctly.

Before Teng Xi could react, the doctor gripped the manual crank and raised the bed, ensuring they could look each other in the eye.

Teng Xi looked at her with an unreadable expression, somewhat doubting her stance.

“This is the Red House Base Headquarters, in a small coastal city in the south.”

When she first woke up, Teng Xi’s sharp eyes had noticed the red house symbols plastered everywhere in the room, identical to the ones she had seen on the helicopter’s exterior.

The woman did not beat around the bush and continued: “I am the person who threatened you on the helicopter. My name is Shi Yun.”