Chapter 580: I Suggest You Go Outside

"Old Duan, go find Dr. Fu and get some headache medicine—wait, you don't have medicine here…"

Zhang Su thought of this and quickly pulled out his walkie-talkie to contact Zhong Xiaoshan: "Xiaoshan, Xiaoshan, bring as much headache medicine as you can to Cuileng Pavilion—hurry, fast."

"Brother Zhang, I'll ask Wei Jun too—maybe he has some."

Duan Wu didn't plan to sit idle; he burst out the door.

"Good!"

Zhong Xiaoshan responded swiftly.

"Hold on, medicine's coming soon."

Zhang Su put away the walkie-talkie and saw Qiu Hui gritting her teeth, struggling desperately—she was clearly suffering—but at that moment, he sharply noticed a very faint bluish tint emerging along the edge of her sclera, slowly spreading, encroaching on the white of her eye.

This sight chilled him, yet also left him puzzled: why had Fu Wei or Duan Wu never mentioned this before?

Or perhaps they considered it trivial… or… they simply hadn't noticed?

Zhang Su stared intently at Qiu Hui's eyes, walked to the stretcher, hesitated, then reached out and gripped her clenched fist—it was cold as iron, truly iron: dry, rigid skin, nothing like human flesh!

Combined with the faint bluish tint on her eyes, she was beginning to look more and more like a zombie.

"Hold on, don't lose your mind—you can do it, Qiu Hui, keep going!"

Creak!

Zhang Su squeezed her fist with all his strength, deforming it, trying to distract her with another kind of pain.

It worked: Zhang Su clearly saw the faint bluish tint on her sclera halt its spread—the white portion still remained about one-quarter!

"It's so hard… Brother Zhang, my head… it hurts so much…"

"Brother Zhang, here it is, here it is—the sedative's here!"

Duan Wu rushed into the room, holding up a syringe no thicker than a thumb.

"Where do we inject?"

Zhang Su took the syringe and looked: the barrel held five milliliters of liquid.

"Neck—I saw Wei Jun always inject the neck!"

Duan Wu pointed nervously at Qiu Hui's neck, where veins bulged prominently.

Zhang Su glanced over and indeed saw tiny needle marks there; without hesitation, he inserted the needle—but didn't push in all the sedative, only about one milliliter before withdrawing it.

The sedative entered her bloodstream and, carried by the strong beat of her heart, rapidly took effect.

Qiu Hui's twisted, pained expression eased visibly; the bulging veins receded, her clenched fist loosened, and she exhaled deeply.

"Oh, one milliliter was enough…"

Duan Wu glanced at the syringe, embarrassed—wasting limited sedative was one thing, but overdosing could also burden Qiu Hui's body.

"Here, you take it." Zhang Su returned the syringe to Duan Wu, then turned to Qiu Hui, who now looked noticeably calmer: "Are you okay?"

Qiu Hui's face was deathly pale, her lips colorless; she offered a bleak smile and nodded: "For now, I'm fine. Not having a headache feels so good, Brother Zhang—will I have to rely on drugs forever just to stay conscious?"

As a peasant woman, Qiu Hui wasn't old—only in her early thirties—and she'd encountered many new things, regularly used her phone, browsed the internet, absorbed information; as long as her head didn't hurt, her mind was sharp, and she instantly grasped the critical issue.

Zhang Su clearly saw the severe bluish tint recede from her sclera; he nodded thoughtfully: "We could try it—but…"

He paused.

"I know—the camp doesn't have much of this sedative, right? It's fine." She spoke bitterly, then looked at Duan Wu: "Brother Duan, could you push me outside to get some sun? After I've soaked up the sun, give me a painless poison—I don't want to struggle anymore."

"Hmm… actually, little Qiu, we can't do that—there's no sun. It's been overcast for days." Duan Wu pointed at the window with a comical expression, like a schoolboy telling classmates: "It's raining—we can't have PE."

"That's just… awful—the one thing before death…"

"We're not studying death right now—I have a new question!"

Zhang Su waved his hand, cutting off Qiu Hui, signaling both to be quiet, then paced back and forth in the room.

Just now, when he gripped her fist, he'd felt strongly that she was transforming into a zombie—two forces raging inside her, and finally, with the sedative's help, she had won.

This back-and-forth zombification—he'd never seen anything like it before; it was deeply confusing.

In the room where Fu Wei and Xie Yan were, the two were performing a craniotomy on the liquefied gas zombie.

Crack.

A strange sound—the skull split open.

Fu Wei was about to begin operating when he suddenly noticed an unusual color—he froze, heart pounding.

"I'll get a tray."

Duan Wu wasn't here; Xie Yan didn't want Fu Wei moving around, so he cheerfully took over the chores.

"Dr. Xie!"

Fu Wei called out to stop Xie Yan, his gaze shifting from the zombie's brain tissue toward Qiu Hui's room: "I'm worried about Qiu Hui—Old Duan doesn't understand the situation. Could you go check on her?"

As he spoke, his hands didn't stop, working inside the zombie's skull.

Xie Yan held the tray, frowned, thought for a moment, glanced at the zombie on the operating table, then set the tray down and hesitated: "Can you manage alone?"

"Small matter." Fu Wei smiled confidently.

"Alright…" Xie Yan removed his gloves and prepared to leave.

Thud-thud-thud…

At that moment, hurried footsteps raced up the stairs.

"Here, Xiaoshan…"

Zhang Su walked to the door and waved at Zhong Xiaoshan, who was just emerging from the stairwell.

"Hello."

Xie Yan happened to step out of the room and greeted Zhong Xiaoshan, then walked with her to Zhang Su's side, slightly puzzled—why was Sister-in-law here?

"Hello, Dr. Xie… Brother Su, there's no specific headache medicine, hehe… I picked several common painkillers from the market—who needs them?"

Zhong Xiaoshan panted, handing Zhang Su a white plastic bag stamped with a pharmacy logo—inside were five or six different boxes and bottles.

Zhang Su randomly picked up a blue box labeled "EVE"—sure enough, it targeted all kinds of pain: headaches, toothaches, joint pain, even menstrual cramps.

Xie Yan understood: they planned to treat Qiu Hui's headache with ordinary drugs; he silently shook his head, thinking this approach would likely be useless.

"As long as it helps with headaches, that's enough. No need to worry—Qiu Hui's got a minor issue. You can go now."

Zhang Su didn't let Zhong Xiaoshan linger in Cuileng Pavilion, to avoid others asking questions after she left.

"Alright, if you need anything else, just let me know."

Zhong Xiaoshan naturally wouldn't pry—not now, at least. Sharing a bed meant plenty of chances to ask later; she nodded politely to Duan Wu and turned to leave.

(End of Chapter)