The Zombie I Flirted With After Losing My Memory, Who Was Pretending to be an Alpha, Is Actually My Ex - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Teng Xi

Shi Yun?

Shi Yun!

Teng Xi bolted upright, but her strength failed her immediately, and she collapsed heavily back onto the bed. Her lips trembled as a series of strangled, guttural sounds escaped her throat.

Watching Teng Xi’s violent reaction, Shi Yun frowned. “I told you that you can’t move right now. Are your ears decorative, or did that damn machine shatter your brain?”

As she spoke, she pulled a pen from her breast pocket and scribbled on the medical chart: “Let’s schedule a brain CT later.”

Her tone was so professional it didn’t sound like a joke at all.

Teng Xi: ? Is this woman doing this on purpose, or is her EQ just in the basement?

“I know what you want to ask, but I can’t answer you right now,” Shi Yun said with matter-of-fact bluntness. “But first, I have a question for you: What is your relationship with Dr. Xie?”

Teng Xi rolled her eyes and lay back down, resigning herself to immobility.

Shi Yun, seemingly unfazed by the silent rejection, began listing hypotheses: “Friends?”

Teng Xi didn’t move.

“Met on the road?”

Still no movement.

“Enemies?”

Silence.

“Lovers?”

This time, Shi Yun didn’t continue. She nodded with a tone of certainty: “Lovers, it seems.”

She leaned lazily against the back of her chair and added, “Forgot to mention—I studied psychology.”

Teng Xi: “…”

Then, a palm-sized card was tossed onto her chest. “This is your ID card. Don’t lose it again.”

Teng Xi looked down at the card resting on her quilt. It looked very similar to Xie Jinbing’s, except this one belonged to her. The photo featured her exact face, expressionless.

• Name: Teng Xi (希 – Xi)

• Birthday: 1997.5.14

• Department: Emergency Response Department

• Position: Captain of Team 3

Teng Xi narrowed her eyes, staring at the card with an unreadable expression.

What is this? Captain of a security squad?

“Teng Xi—Xi as in ‘Hope’ (Xiwang),” Shi Yun said, looking directly at her. Her face remained neutral, but Teng Xi felt there was a hidden meaning behind those words.

Shi Yun didn’t linger. She yanked the partition curtain open and walked out with her hands in her pockets, only offering a “charity” remark before her figure disappeared: “Dr. Xie is still alive.”

Teng Xi didn’t look up. She slowly moved her hand and gripped the ID card.

Teng Xi?

If her brain wasn’t malfunctioning, she distinctly remembered asking Sister Xie for her name a few days ago, and it certainly wasn’t this “Xi.”

Teng Xi spent half the day lying in bed. Unable to eat, she relied on nutrient IVs, feeling like a paralytic. The sensation was loathsome. As soon as her body recovered even a sliver of strength, she forced herself to stand, leaning against the wall to move.

The nurse tried to stop her at first, but later—whether because of Teng Xi’s persistence or instructions from Shi Yun—she was left alone except for meals and necessary checkups. They even thoughtfully provided a wheelchair, though Teng Xi’s pride kept her from using it.

By the second day, Teng Xi could move to the door on her own. The brain CT Shi Yun mentioned wasn’t a joke; the nurse intercepted her early that morning. Ignoring her protests, they strapped her into the wheelchair and pushed her to the CT room on the first floor.

Lying on the examination bed, the chaotic buzzing of the machine filled her ears. She tried to empty her mind to block out the irritating noise, recalling the scenes she had just seen in the elevator.

The building had nine floors. Her room was on the fifth, and the CT room was on the first. Along the way, she saw many people. Most wore white lab coats, but others wore linen clothes and carried bamboo conical hats; their damp pant legs and sleeves carried the briny scent of the sea.

At least one thing Shi Yun hadn’t lied about: they were on the coast.

Beyond that, she couldn’t gather much. There were no advertisements or hospital introductions in the elevator—only the red house symbols plastered everywhere.

The place felt normal. So normal it was eerie. It was full of living people and functional social resources; even her daily meals consisted of the standard three dishes and a soup.

The CT scan ended quickly. She braced herself against the wall as she walked out, only to run into Shi Yun again. The doctor nodded at her. “Wait for me.”

Shi Yun entered the CT control room. Teng Xi peered through the small glass window on the door. The radiologist immediately gave up their seat when Shi Yun entered. Without ceremony, Shi Yun operated the mouse, staring intently at the screen.

Teng Xi pulled her gaze back and whispered, “Who wants to wait for you?”

The little nurse’s sharp ears caught her. She didn’t dare disobey Shi Yun’s orders, so she pushed the wheelchair in front of Teng Xi with a troubled expression. “Captain Teng…”

During rounds, she had seen the ID card on the bedside table. She hadn’t expected this young-looking woman to be the Captain of the Response Team. However, there were many response teams in the hospital, so it made sense that she hadn’t seen her before.

Teng Xi tried to ignore her, but every time she stepped left, the nurse blocked her to the right. After a few rounds, Teng Xi gave in and plopped into the wheelchair.

“Little sister, you really listen to Shi Yun, don’t you? But that woman is too much of a ‘straight girl’; she’s not suitable for dating.” Teng Xi teased her.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “Captain Teng, I’m 32. I have two kids.”

“Ah?” Teng Xi looked at the face that seemed barely twenty and said sincerely, “I really couldn’t tell. I thought you just graduated. You look way younger than Shi Yun.”

Flattered, the nurse smiled. “Just graduated? I’ve worked here for nine years. And Dr. Shi just turned 30.”

“I really couldn’t tell. Dr. Shi is so young to be the Director.”

“Director?”

“Isn’t she the Director of the Red House Mental Hospital?” Teng Xi blinked, projecting genuine confusion.

The nurse realized. “I thought you meant the Director of the Medical Center Headquarters. I don’t know much about the mental hospital. Dr. Shi spends half her year over there. Right, isn’t your Team 3 stationed at the mental hospital? You don’t know her age?”

Teng Xi scratched her head sheepishly, her mind racing to analyze this. “I didn’t have much contact with Dr. Shi over there. I dealt more with doctors like Xie Jinbing.”

“Dr. Xie?”

Teng Xi was overjoyed but kept her expression calm. “You’ve heard of her here too?”

Nurse: “Who hasn’t heard of Dr. Xie? She was the second person personally interviewed by Director Qi back then. You don’t read magazines, do you? Dr. Xie is a celebrity in medical journals. I was a fan of hers when I was younger; she’s so cool.”

Seeing the nurse’s eyes start to sparkle, Teng Xi realized for the first time that her “wife” had quite the fan club.

“What are you talking about?” As the CT room door opened, Shi Yun stepped out and looked at the nurse questioningly.

The nurse lowered her head under that gaze. Teng Xi was about to brush it off, but the nurse blurted out, “We were talking about Dr. Xie.”

“Dr. Xie?” Shi Yun arched an eyebrow. Teng Xi stopped pretending and crossed her arms, meeting her gaze. Even from the lower angle of the wheelchair, she didn’t look like someone to be trifled with.

Shi Yun said nothing to her but told the nurse, “I’ll push her. You go be busy.”

The radiology department was quiet. Shi Yun pushed Teng Xi slowly, remaining silent until they reached the lobby, where the crowd thickened.

This place looked exactly like a real hospital. Many people in fisherman’s attire were queuing at the windows; people were laughing and talking. Everything was so natural that Teng Xi began to wonder if the zombie world she experienced a day ago was a hallucination.

As they exited the lobby toward the entrance, a wave of humid warmth hit her. The weather in the south was much warmer than in the central region; people were already wearing short sleeves.

Facing the lobby was a fountain and a flower bed, with a statue standing in the center. The statue’s back was to them, so Teng Xi couldn’t see what it depicted.

The hospital was open-concept with no walls. A hundred meters past the flower beds, vendors squatted on the ground shouting their wares. Surrounding them were low-rise buildings, none taller than three stories, making the hospital tower over its surroundings.

Shi Yun continued pushing her in silence, turning a corner toward the back of the building.

Teng Xi then noticed two other tall towers. The three buildings formed a triangle, surrounding a three-story Western-style villa in the center.

Shi Yun pushed her toward the building in the rear, weaving through the crowd. They looked just like a typical patient and doctor.

After a few steps, Shi Yun finally spoke: “Your brain is fine.”

Teng Xi rolled her eyes. She knew her brain was fine.

Shi Yun continued: “However, the memory detector shows you have amnesia.”

Teng Xi: ?

The conversation just started and we’re already at ‘memory detectors’? What on earth is that?

Shi Yun seemed to read her thoughts. “An instrument that can detect memories. Your current state is a side effect of that process.”

Teng Xi narrowed her eyes. What concerned her more was what kind of place this was—a place that would subject someone to such severe side effects just to check their memory.

Shi Yun: “You might have forgotten what we do here, but it doesn’t matter. The base is short-staffed during wartime. You won’t be fired.”

Wartime?

Teng Xi raised her hand, asking with mock politeness: “Can I ask a question?”

“Mhm.”

“Has the zombie crisis really broken out?”

Shi Yun: “It has.”

The crowd around them was bustling. Young women held babies, coaxing them with sweets; the elderly wore loving expressions; flower girls ran through the crowd, their hair damp with sweat but their enthusiasm undimmed.

Shi Yun’s words felt like an invisible hand pressing down on Teng Xi’s head. In this crowd, she was the only one shivering with cold.

Shi Yun’s tone remained terrifyingly calm, as if she had just said ‘The weather is nice today.’ She continued: “The base is located on an island. Communications are controlled by the base. The crisis hasn’t been out there for long, and they don’t know yet. I hope you won’t blabber.”

After a long while, Shi Yun reached another building. As the automatic doors opened, Teng Xi spoke softly: “The base… what exactly does it do?”

To her disappointment, Shi Yun only whispered: “Red House Medical Institute. A private base for medical research.”

Realizing Shi Yun wouldn’t say more, Teng Xi suddenly remembered: “The Director’s surname is Qi?”

Shi Yun looked at her in surprise, then understood. “The nurse told you?”

She didn’t say yes or no. She remained silent as she pushed Teng Xi toward the elevator. As the voice announcement played and the doors opened, Shi Yun’s voice drifted into her ear—for the first time, Teng Xi heard a chill in her tone: “Don’t dream of doing anything. You cannot leave this place alone.”

The elevator stopped at the top floor. Shi Yun still hadn’t revealed the purpose of this trip.

The top floor was empty, but cameras with blinking red lights were everywhere. It was clearly high-security.

After walking for a while, Shi Yun stopped and tapped on a piece of glass.

Someone seemed to be inside; the one-way glass was adjusted to two-way mode.

Teng Xi looked through, her eyes widening instantly. Her legs surged with a sudden burst of strength as she stood up and slammed her palms against the glass.

Xie Jinbing!

The person lying motionless on that hospital bed was Xie Jinbing!