“Director Li, how do we help her recover?” Zhang Wan asked immediately, patting Fu Qingdai’s shoulder.
Su Jin held her gaze. “Helping her is simple enough, but we first need to talk about the cause. What happened at school is only part of it. You two have played a part as well.”
“Your behavior just now? You were making things worse for her.”
“Ah?” Zhang Wan bristled, momentarily defensive. “Kids these days are just too fragile. Back in our day—”
“That exact sentence is part of the problem.”
“…”
Su Jin sighed heavily. “Vladimir Xukun once said that there is only one truly serious philosophical problem: suicide. People need a sense of meaning to live.”
Fu Hu and his wife hung onto his every word.
“What happened at school had already shaken her sense of purpose. Coming home to parents who fundamentally misunderstand her only accelerates the downward spiral. Left unchecked, this manifests as severe suicidal ideation and hallucinations. Assuming she hasn’t started hallucinating yet, it is not too late to help her. You need to start helping her right away and avoid upsetting her.”
“She’s already having hallucinations, Director Li! What do we do?! When can she go back to class?” Zhang Wan panicked, the color draining from Fu Hu’s face as well.
“Wuuuu—!” Fu Qingdai let out a wail that sounded like a malfunctioning fire alarm.
“Could you permanently drop the subject of school?” Su Jin shot Zhang Wan an icy glare. “Do you realize how much latent damage you’re inflicting? The girl is hallucinating, and you’re worried about her attendance record? Longshan City barely has a handful of psychologists who could help her, and the field is still underdeveloped in this country.”
“Then… do you have anyone you can recommend?” Fu Hu swallowed hard.
“I just returned to Longshan. I’m not familiar with the local specialists,” Su Jin said, shaking his head. “My old mentor could have handled it, but unfortunately, he was gone last year.”
“Could you treat her?!” Zhang Wan blurted out.
“Do not ask that. Director Li is not a doctor. How could he have time to treat her?” Fu Hu barked, before turning back with a pleading look. “But… Director Li, could you point us in the right direction? Tell us what we should do?”
“It is hard to explain in a few words,” Su Jin sighed, shifting his tone to sound begrudgingly helpful. “Look, we live across the hall. I go out during the day, but my evenings are relatively clear. You can send the kid over to my unit, or I can come here. We’re neighbors now; there is no need to stand on ceremony.”
“I can talk with her for two hours each night. Give me a week, and she should be able to go back to school. In her free time, encourage her to engage in activities such as singing and dancing. That should make it easier for you to help her feel better afterward.”
“Are you serious?!” Zhang Wan shot up from her chair, vibrating with gratitude. “Thank you so, so much, Director Li! I…”
“Forget Director Li! It’s Bureau Chief Li to you!” Fu Hu leaped up, glaring at his wife before hoisting his glass. “Bureau Chief Li, I offer you this toast. I’m a blunt man, so let the liquor do the talking!”
He tipped his head back and drained the glass in one go.
Fu Qingdai lowered her head, mortified.
“No need for that, Old Fu. You can call me Bureau Chief in two weeks,” Su Jin chuckled, turning his gaze to Fu Qingdai. “Besides, we should ask Qingdai what she wants, don’t we?”
“Qingdai, are you willing to spare a little time each evening to talk? Relax, there’s no pressure. We’re just going to chat.”
Fu Qingdai pursed her lips and gave a small nod.
“Then we have a plan,” Su Jin said, spreading his hands with a warm smile toward the parents. “I will come by tomorrow. For now, let’s keep talking.”
…
The script had been meticulously drafted, and his targets had fallen into his trap. Get faster updates on g.com.
Su Jin effortlessly dominated the rest of the dinner conversation. Merely flashing the impressive Xiaomi 6 was enough to dazzle the locals.
To make matters even smoother, Fu Qingdai occasionally asked the questions they had prepared to help his story along.
As for the inquiries he couldn’t actually answer… there were naturally a few, but he had a single answer.
State secret. No comment.
An hour later, dinner was over.
Su Jin packed up his things, discreetly pocketed the 231.50 yuan that Fu Qingdai had secretly slipped him, and prepared to leave.
Fu Hu stood by the front door, holding it open for him.
His rugged face was flushed deep red. He wore a sloppy grin, clearly having drunk quite a bit at dinner.
“Director Li, I was so glad to meet you tonight. Damn… if it weren’t for you pulling my file, I would’ve gone to my grave thinking everyone was just being polite when I left the army. I never knew my superiors and comrades thought so highly of me!”
“And for what you’re doing for my daughter… I don’t even know how to repay the debt. If you ever need help with anything within my power, just ask!”
Su Jin waved a dismissive hand. “I may ask for your help later, but it will be nothing major. Close the door. I am going home.”
“Hold on, Director Li!” Fu Hu called out suddenly.
“Something else?”
“Director Li… I…” Fu Hu hesitated, his tongue thick from drink. “About… the National Bureau…”
He stammered for several agonizing seconds, too embarrassed to say the word ‘job’.
Su Jin feigned a look of sudden realization, followed by a reassuring smile. “Old Fu, don’t stand on ceremony with me. There’s no shame in wanting to climb the ladder. You’re asking about the office job, right?”
Fu Hu nodded, a sheepish look on his flushed face.
They had made a connection, and Su Jin clearly had real skills. Fu Hu no longer doubted his identity.
Even if he was already benefiting from Su Jin’s help, he also wanted that job with its ten-thousand-yuan starting salary.
“I’ll give it to you straight, Old Fu. I have the ability to help, but I can’t give you a 100% guarantee tonight. The problem is that I do not know what openings the bureau has. Wait for word from me. I’ll have a definitive answer for you by tomorrow. Deal?”
“That’s a deal! Thank you, Director Li! Have a good night!” Fu Hu bowed his head, practically vibrating with gratitude.
Su Jin waved goodbye, and the heavy metal door clicked shut.
He turned on his heel and crossed the short distance to his own unit. He fished his key out, about to unlock the door.
Through the thin walls behind him, the Fu family’s happy conversation carried through the door.
The joyful noise felt painfully loud in the empty corridor.
Click. The motion-sensor light above him timed out, plunging the stairwell into pitch blackness. The only sound left was Su Jin’s ragged, exhausted breathing.
His hand went entirely slack, the key hanging from his hand. He slumped forward, resting his forehead against the cold iron door. He closed his eyes and sighed.
His chest felt hollowed out.
But right now? He missed it with a visceral, suffocating ache.
He forcefully expelled the stale air from his lungs. Swiping a thumb beneath his eye to catch a stray tear, he unlocked the door and stepped into his empty apartment.
…
Dark clouds loomed over the city, and a cold wind whistled between the buildings.
Rain poured between the buildings.
The streets were deserted. The only things moving were the walking dead.
Rotting figures wandered aimlessly across the street.
Su Jin was crouched at a street corner, wearing a raincoat as he watched the situation ahead.
A zombie made a noise behind him and suddenly lunged!
Su Jin whipped his head around, met instantly by a gaping mouth rushing toward his face.
“Fuck!!”
His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to bite the zombie’s face.
…
“Hrk—!!”
Su Jin jolted awake, clutching his own throat. He was gasping for air like a drowning man, his body completely soaked in sweat.
His throat felt like it was packed with razor blades.
He sat up, leaving behind a human-shaped sweat mark on the sheets.
He forced himself through a series of deep breaths. When his heartbeat began to settle, he viciously scrubbed his hands over his face.
A nightmare. The stress must have caused the dream.
He reached to his right, his fingers closing around his notebook. He snapped it open.
The grain shop would deliver his order tonight. He still had supplies to buy during the day… but first, he needed to hit the local slaughterhouse for practice. The rest could wait until the afternoon.
Faster. He needed to adapt faster. He had to get used to the pressure as quickly as possible.
He could not afford a mental collapse. If he broke down, everything would be lost!
After encouraging himself a few times, Su Jin lifted his head.
His heavily bloodshot eyes locked onto the calendar marked on the wall opposite. A row of red crosses marked the dates.
Only three days left until the apocalypse.