“Watch out!” Sister Mei screamed, the first to react.
But Song Yue had already anticipated the move and dodged.
Though she was petite, standing only 162 centimeters tall, six months of grueling training in her past life had honed her reflexes to a razor’s edge. To the bystanders, the woman’s attack had been a blur—a sudden, violent strike. To Song Yue, it was like a film slowed to a crawl.
She slipped past the attack with effortless ease.
The woman cried out, the momentum of her missed blow sending her crashing against the wall with a dull thud.
Her young son, strapped to her back, hit the floor and erupted into wails.
The commotion drew everyone’s attention.
Lin Sheng, who had just been helped upstairs by the staff, recognized the familiar face instantly.
“It’s you!” he roared, veins bulging in his forehead. “You murderer!”
If he weren’t supporting his severely injured wife, he swore he would have been upon the woman with his fist in the next heartbeat.
The elderly couple recognized her too—she was with the man who had robbed their wardrobe.
“So it’s just you and your son left,” the old man murmured. Seeing no sign of the woman’s husband or the rest of her family, the couple exchanged a knowing look and shook their heads.
It was unclear whether they were shaking their heads in pity for the woman or in sorrow for the husband.
“What’s going on? What murderer?”
The staff member, completely bewildered, looked from the woman to the furious Lin Sheng.
Lin Sheng’s fists clenched, his eyes blazing. “She asked my wife for buoyancy packs. My wife kindly gave her two, but she wasn’t satisfied. When we weren’t looking, she stabbed my wife with a rebar!”
The crowd froze, faces pale with shock.
So she hadn’t made the buoyancy packs—she’d stolen them.
No wonder she’d been so hesitant when the girl on the eighth floor asked her to teach the others.
She’s a thief and a murderer, they realized with a shudder.
Lin Sheng’s chest heaved with rage as he saw their stunned expressions. “Her husband robbed these two elders of their survival gear! They watched him kill two people. They had to surrender everything just to stay alive. I’m telling you, this whole family is evil! Don’t let her fool you!”
“My God,” someone whispered. “A family of ruthless killers!”
The staff members gasped.
“How horrific. I can’t believe I was living with a murderer!”
“And she played the part so well. She even fooled Auntie Zhang and the others.”
“Thank god it was exposed today,” one staff member said, mimicking a throat-slitting motion with his hand. “Or else we might have been…”
A chill ran down everyone’s spine, followed immediately by a profound sense of relief.
Thank goodness the girl on the eighth floor had seen through the woman’s act and exposed her lie, or they would have continued to be fooled.
Now that the truth was out, the crowd could no longer restrain themselves. They charged forward, bound the woman and her son with rope, and dragged them into a storage room on the seventh floor.
“Pah! You preyed on our sympathy. Liars deserve to die!”
“A murderer trying to play the victim! Get in there! Heaven will judge you soon enough!”
The depth of their current rage was equal to the trust they had once placed in her.
The older women who had most fervently urged the chef to let the mother and son in the day before were now so furious they wanted to throw the woman out of the hotel. But they weren’t ruthless enough to do so; casting them out would be a death sentence, and they couldn’t bring themselves to commit such an act.
Still, they couldn’t allow a murderer to roam freely through the building.
Binding them was the only option, a necessary precaution.
After the turmoil settled, the staff members who had let the woman manipulate them into pressuring Song Yue to surrender her kayak felt utterly ashamed.
Chef Chen walked over and patted the staff members’ backs. “It’s all right. There are enough of us here to figure something out.”
The dejected employees looked up. They had nearly made a grave mistake and almost dragged their entire team down with them, yet Chef Chen wasn’t blaming them. Instead, he was encouraging them to find a solution.
A wave of warmth spread through them. With renewed resolve, they met his gaze. “Don’t worry, Chef Chen. We’ll all get out of here alive!”
Meanwhile, as the crowd was binding the woman and her son, Song Yue had already helped Lin Sheng and his injured wife into a room on the eighth floor.
Huang Xin’s abdominal wound was severe. Torn clothing had been used as a makeshift bandage, but it was saturated with blood from the depth of the injury and the strain of their journey.
Despite the blood loss, Huang Xin forced her eyes open, fighting to stay conscious. It took an immense effort of will.
A soft light glinted in Song Yue’s eyes. She approached the woman lying on the bed and asked gently, “Can I see the wound?”
Huang Xin nodded weakly, her face ghostly pale.
Lin Sheng held his wife’s hand, moving aside to give Song Yue room.
Carefully, Song Yue peeled back the outer layer of clothing to examine the injury beneath.
Lin Sheng watched her with anxious intensity, rubbing his hands together. “Are you a doctor?”
“No.” Song Yue didn’t even look up.
“Oh. Then… do you know which medications to use?” Lin Sheng swallowed hard, his face etched with worry.
Song Yue ignored him. After examining the wound, she stood up and said calmly, “It’s starting to get infected. I’ll go get the medicine.”
She had stored a portion of her supplies in her Space, including disinfectants and antibiotics.
The woman knew how to make buoyancy packs—a valuable skill. Song Yue had decided to save her for that reason alone.
She returned to the room with a bag full of supplies: medical alcohol, an alcohol lamp, cotton swabs, sterile gauze, dry towels, forceps, a packet of Panax notoginseng powder, a box of amoxicillin capsules, fever reducers, and a tube of mupirocin ointment.
Lin Sheng stared at the overflowing bag, his surprise turning to relief. “You have all this?”
Song Yue set the supplies down. “Boil some water.”
“Right away!” Lin Sheng scrambled to comply, completely forgetting her earlier admission that she wasn’t a doctor.
There are no other professionals here, Lin Sheng thought. She has all these supplies, and she’s so calm and organized. Even if she’s not a doctor, she’s as good as one!
With that thought, his heart, which had sunk, soared once again.
By the time the water boiled, Song Yue had already sterilized the forceps over the alcohol lamp.
“Wipe around the wound with the towel,” she instructed. “I’ll clean out the debris inside.”
Lin Sheng nodded quickly and began gently dabbing his wife’s frail body.
Song Yue leaned over, carefully inserting the forceps into the wound.
A muffled groan escaped the woman on the bed.
Song Yue didn’t flinch. With steady precision, she extracted small stones, fragments of leaves, and scraps of paper one by one. “Just bear with it for a moment. It’ll be over soon. By the way, I’m Song Yue. You can call me Xiao Yue. What about you?”
She knew that talking could distract a patient from the pain.
The woman’s attention shifted, and she managed a weak reply. “…I’m… Huang Xin… and this is my husband… Lin Sheng.”
Song Yue smiled. She set the forceps aside and took out the medical alcohol, moistening a cotton ball.
“I’ll call you Sister Xin and him Brother Lin then,” she said. “You two have such a wonderful relationship. You must have been together for many years.”
Huang Xin smiled shyly and glanced at Lin Sheng. “…It’s been… over five years… Not that long, really…”
“Five years? Multiply that by ten and you’ve reached a golden anniversary! Congratulations in advance!”
Huang Xin’s eyes crinkled as Song Yue’s words brought a small laugh to her lips.
Seizing the moment, Song Yue swiftly swiped the alcohol-soaked cotton ball across the wound.
“Sss…” Huang Xin winced, her brow furrowing.
Lin Sheng squeezed her hand, his voice laced with heartache. “Just bear with it a little longer. It’ll be over soon.”
Huang Xin managed a smile for him. “…It doesn’t hurt. My heart… is just feeling sweet.”
Realizing that the young woman’s chatter was keeping his wife distracted, Lin Sheng met Song Yue’s gaze, his eyes brimming with tears of gratitude.
After considerable effort, Song Yue finally finished cleaning the pus and debris from both inside and outside the wound.
Before leaving, Song Yue gave Lin Sheng her final instructions.
“These three are for oral use,” she said. “The capsules are an antibiotic to prevent infection, and the Sanqi powder is to stop bleeding. Just follow the dosage on the labels. If Sister Xin shows any signs of a fever later, give her this fever reducer at the bottom. This is a topical ointment—apply it once the wound has clotted slightly. If anything else happens, come find me in Room 808.”
Lin Sheng gazed at the medication, overcome with gratitude.
Who could have imagined that his wife, who had been on the brink of unconsciousness from blood loss just an hour ago, would find a turning point thanks to Song Yue’s dedicated care?
For the rest of the day, no other survivors arrived at the Lakeside Hotel after Lin Sheng and the elderly couple.
The group decided that staying cooped up in the hotel was a waste of time and began searching for supplies. When they had thrown the female murderer into the storage room earlier that morning, they discovered it was filled with useful items: dry uniforms, fleece-lined low-top boots, umbrellas, candles, lighters… Many of the things they desperately needed were right there.
With their eyes now open to the potential, the group quickly organized themselves to clear out the storage rooms on the lower floors that hadn’t yet been flooded.
They systematically searched five levels, from the fourth floor up to the eighth, pooling all the supplies they found before dividing them among the group. When there weren’t enough of a particular item to go around, they decided who needed it most through discussion.
Song Yue joined the effort, if only to avoid standing out.
But while the others worked with eager determination, she was blatantly slacking off. It wasn’t her fault—her own space was so overflowing with supplies that she couldn’t bring herself to care about the meager trinkets in these storage rooms.
Time flew by. By evening, the sky had darkened.
The hotel’s power had failed the previous night, and the group decided to call it a day. They would divide the supplies and plan their next move at dawn.
As soon as she returned to her room, Song Yue slipped into her space.
With so many people around during the day, she hadn’t had a chance to enjoy any of the delicacies stored there. Only now, in the deep silence of the night, could she finally indulge and satisfy her empty stomach.