Chapter 227: All Dirty, All Black

Feng Ren's maniacal laughter echoed inside the room, like a crow wailing, filled with twisted joy and pain.

Tian Tao's movement of picking up the rotten meat suddenly stiffened; he looked resentfully at Wang Cong as the latter crashed past two startled prison guards, stumbling down the corridor.

"What are you standing there for? Go call the prison doctor!"

Tian Tao carefully cupped several pieces of chewed-up rotten meat in his palm, his voice muffled and leaking air as he roared at the two prison guards.

The two prison guards blanked for a moment before reacting; Tian Tao wasn't talking about Forensic Doctor Qin Liang, but the medical staff equipped in the prison.

They had almost forgotten that Second Prison was also equipped with a prison doctor, because normally very few people ever had use for one.

The two ran off quickly and returned after a long while, a 200-jin-heavy prison doctor trailing behind them.

No helping it; Second Prison's work was too leisurely. The prisoners and guards here, from birth to death, basically never got sick — very worry-free.

Ever since transferring to Second Prison, this prison doctor could count his consultations on one hand all year. Day after day, every day besides eating was sleeping; it would be hard not to get fat with such a life of few desires.

Tian Tao glared at the prison doctor, carefully extended his palm, and asked, "Can it be restored?"

The prison doctor covered his eyes in disgust, irritably saying, "Ugh, so gross, take it away quick."

Tian Tao's face trembled with rage; unwilling to give up, he asked again, "Can it be stitched?"

The prison doctor rudely shook his head, then took out alcohol gauze and hemostatic spray, roughly applying them to Tian Tao's face.

His movements were rough but fast; in two or three minutes, Tian Tao's entire face was wrapped into a mummy-like state.

"You stay in the prison tonight and sleep here; I'll also stay in the prison tonight. If it gets infected and suppurates, call me." The prison doctor finished, turned his head, and dragged his heavy steps away.

Tian Tao clenched his fist tight with one hand; the rotten meat in his hand was squeezed into juice, then pressed into a cup, and he swallowed it down his throat in one hateful mouthful.

Wang Cong staggered through the corridor, jogging all the way to the restroom, hurriedly washed his face, and tidied his appearance a little.

Afterward, he rushed toward the Warden's Office, but was blocked at the laser corridor leading to the office by prison guards from the Security Division.

The blocking prison guard looked at Wang Cong with contempt and said indifferently, "Prison Warden Qian has no time to see you today. Go back."

Wang Cong's heart sank sharply; just then, he looked up and happened to catch sight of Qian Huan stepping out from inside the office.

He hurriedly called out, but Qian Huan merely turned his head lightly, gave him a sidelong glance, then withdrew that cold gaze as if discarding a worn-out shoe.

The blocking prison guard coldly laughed: "Wang Cong, not to lecture you, but do you understand the rules? The Warden handles myriad affairs daily; you're just a lowly prison guard — to see the Warden you need to file a report in advance."

Wang Cong's ears could no longer hear any of the prison guard's words; his chest felt as if a torrent of angry lava was erupting violently.

Just now, when suffering Tian Tao's beating, he had not felt such burning rage as at this moment.

Wang Cong turned away; his throat seemed blocked by something, his face flushed iron-green with suppressed anger, veins on his forehead bulging from rage, looking ferocious and terrifying.

He simply could not understand why?

Clearly that day when the Warden heard of his surrender, he had still treated him with a pleasant countenance and great appreciation; how come today he suddenly changed faces, with a feeling that even one more glance at him felt dirty?

"Could it be just because Feng Mu didn't die?! I'm dirty, but Warden, are you clean?"

Wang Cong really couldn't understand the twists and turns within; although he had blackened a bit, he was still an insignificant small fry. Even if he racked his brains, he couldn't imagine how filthy a big shot's guts could be.

That was a darkness filthier than him blackening 100 times over!

Wang Cong wanted to rush over heedlessly, but the flashing red lights atop the laser corridor doused his anger; then his trouser pocket buzzed with vibration, pulling him back from his brutal imaginings to reality.

Wang Cong woodenly took out his phone, woodenly opened the text message.

——Your bank account has been credited 413000, description: House Mortgage.

Wang Cong's eyes dulled for an instant; then, as if thinking of something, he hurriedly called the bank to inquire.

A cold female voice came from the phone: "Hello sir, the house was mortgaged by Ms. Liu Xiujuan at our bank; the remittance account was left under your name."

Wang Cong's ears rang; his mind was instantly filled with Mother's last phone call with him.

"It's okay son, your dad won't blame you, Mom doesn't blame you either. It's Dad and Mom who have no ability; we muddled through a lifetime and in the end we're just low-level citizens, can't help you much. But Dad and Mom will absolutely not hold you back."

"Son, just climb upward with peace of mind. Don't worry about anything. As long as you can change your own fate, Mom will be happy. Dad would die with eyes closed in peace."

"Alright, not saying more. Mom will go to the hospital later to take one last look at your dad. You work hard in the prison. If money isn't enough, tell Mom. Mom will smash pots and sell iron, sell the house if needed, and scrape the money together for you."

"Good. My son has been the most filial since childhood. Mom believes in you. Mom waits for that day. Then we'll bury Mom and Dad together. Thinking about it makes me happy."

Wang Cong stood rooted as if soulless, then suddenly turned and ran like a maniac, chanting as he ran: "Hospital, to the hospital, 24 hours!"

On the street diagonally opposite the Fourth Hospital entrance.

A dozen or so prison guards changed into plainclothes and slowly walked into a street-facing restaurant.

Suddenly, Deng Wei's sharp eyes pointed across the street, uncertainly saying: "Huh, you guys look — isn't that Wang Cong at the hospital entrance?"

Several prison guards snapped their heads in unison to look over; they saw a figure running hurriedly. Though the back view was blurry, that uniform was the prison guard's signature attire.

Qin Liang's pupils shrank slightly; he glanced at Feng Mu and asked with a smile: "Not calling Wang Cong to eat? Feng Mu, I remember you two were closest in Second Prison, right?"

Feng Mu withdrew his gaze looking toward the hospital; a trace of complex emotion flashed across his face:

"I thought I was close with him, but he might not think so of me. Ah, forget it. Won't call him. Let's eat ourselves."

Qin Liang just mentioned it once and didn't ask further; the group followed Feng Mu into the private room in the inner second floor.

Meanwhile, Wang Cong stood inside the hospital's morgue; inside the cabinet before him lay a corpse he had never met. He completely collapsed.

He stared with wide eyes, roaring at the female nurse beside him: "Where's my mom? Where is she? Where's the person?"

Facing Wang Cong's man-eating gaze, the female nurse appeared exceptionally calm, her tone without a ripple:

"Sir, you came too late. Your mother's body was sent to the incineration plant three hours ago."

Wang Cong breathed heavily, fingernails digging deep into his palm flesh.

The female nurse still wore that professional smile, checking records on her tablet as she asked faintly:

"However, your father is still receiving treatment at our hospital. May I ask if you need to process his discharge procedures now?"

(End of Chapter)