Qi Yanjue looked at the scene by the window, Doctor Zhao and Director Luo were desperately trying to save Will, then glanced at the side, where Song Yueying was calmly eating an orange as if nothing had happened.
Was she just naturally careless, or did she not realize what kind of trouble she had caused?
“Aren’t you going to explain?” Qi Yanjue frowned and asked.
Not expecting him to speak, Song Yueying paused mid-chew, then swallowed the orange in her mouth. She gave him a sidelong glance and said calmly, “No need.”
There is a saying: those who trust you don’t need an explanation; those who don’t trust you won’t believe you even if you explain.
Her indifferent attitude made Qi Yanjue laugh in frustration. “Will’s importance to China is beyond what you can imagine. If he ends up in trouble because of your medicine…”
He did not finish the sentence, but he believed she understood what he meant.
“He won’t be in trouble,” Song Yueying said firmly.
Qi Yanjue was momentarily speechless.
Meanwhile, Doctor Zhao and Director Luo were still jointly carrying out emergency treatment on Will, though it was completely ineffective.
Director Luo exchanged a look with Doctor Zhao and continued the resuscitation effort while Doctor Zhao stood up. Before he could speak, his wrist was grabbed by Interpreter Zhou.
“How is he? How is Mr. Will? Why did he suddenly collapse? When will he wake up?” Zhou asked anxiously, firing off questions all at once.
“Don’t panic, Director Luo is still resuscitating him,” Doctor Zhao said. He then pulled his wrist free and walked past Zhou toward Song Yueying.
Zhou turned to watch him go, hesitating as if he wanted to say something but didn’t.
How could he not be anxious? Will was an engineer invited by the higher authorities to repair important equipment. As his interpreter, he also bore responsibility for Will’s safety.
Before translating, a couple of tight clarifications in meaning are needed to keep it accurate: “修護藥片” here refers to a restorative/regenerative pill, and “送走” is an idiom meaning “cause death / send him off (i.e., die due to complications)”.
Now the translation:
Earlier, when Will was being targeted by the nurse and misunderstood by the public, he was not by Will’s side and failed to protect him in time.
Now, he was right there with Will, yet Will had been given an unknown pill by Song Yueying and had not woken up even after two doctors took turns performing emergency treatment.
He felt as if the sky was about to collapse.
Zhou the interpreter withdrew his gaze, squatted down beside Director Luo, and wanted to ask about Will’s condition, but did not dare to, afraid of disturbing the emergency treatment.
He could only watch Will anxiously and uneasily, silently praying that nothing must happen to him.
A pair of large feet suddenly appeared in his line of sight. Song Yueying looked up at the newcomer. Seeing it was Doctor Zhao, she did not speak first, waiting for him instead.
Doctor Zhao also did not waste time and went straight to the point. “What exactly did you just give Mr. Will? What condition does it primarily treat?”
His tone was extremely serious, his brows tightly furrowed.
“A regular restorative pill,” Song Yueying replied.
“What do you mean by ‘restorative pill’?” Before she could explain, Doctor Zhao asked again, “Restorative for what exactly? What are the ingredients?”
“It naturally restores the body. As for the ingredients, sorry, it’s a proprietary formula and not shared publicly.”
Hearing that it was a secret formula, Doctor Zhao clenched his fists in anger, countless thoughts flashing through his mind.
Noticing his clenched fists, Song Yueying could tell he was angry, not that he intended to hit her.
“I guarantee Mr. Will will be fine,” she said lightly. “But if Director Luo doesn’t stop the emergency treatment soon, I can’t guarantee the same outcome.”
Will’s body was already slowly recovering. Director Luo’s resuscitation efforts were not only futile, but could also accidentally end up sending him off.
Doctor Zhao’s pupils contracted sharply as he asked in full suspicion, “You guarantee Mr. Will will be fine, on what basis are you making that guarantee? How can you prove it?”
To him, what Song Yueying was saying sounded like nothing more than shirking responsibility.
Lowering her gaze and thinking for a moment, Song Yueying pointed at the man lying on the hospital bed, Zhao Jianzhu. “Him. The fact that he didn’t die is the best proof.”
Both Doctor Zhao and Zhao Jianzhu were simultaneously shaken.
Doctor Zhao had long been puzzled: Zhao Jianzhu had multiple knife wounds, yet there was no excessive blood loss. It was abnormal, unnatural, and completely unexplainable.
As for Zhao Jianzhu, what he couldn’t understand was something else entirely, he had seen with his own eyes Song Yueying slam into a wall, blood pouring from her forehead. Yet just two hours later, her wound had healed completely.
Although Song Yueying had repeatedly insisted he remembered it wrong, he was certain he had not.
“You also gave him the same kind of medicine as Mr. Will,” Doctor Zhao said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement of certainty.
He had already asked Zhao Jianzhu whether he had taken any medication, but Zhao Jianzhu hadn’t answered and instead changed the subject, leaving the matter unresolved.
“It’s not the same,” Song Yueying shook her head. Doctor Zhao’s heart tightened, and then he heard her continue, “What I gave Mr. Will is a restorative pill. What I gave him is not.”
So she had indeed given Zhao Jianzhu some kind of medicine. What he had thought was a miracle was not a miracle at all, it was her medicine that had saved Zhao Jianzhu’s life.
She did not explicitly say what medicine she had given Zhao Jianzhu or what its effects were.
Doctor Zhao had intended to ask, but then remembered her saying it was a proprietary formula not to be disclosed. He turned and walked over to Director Luo, crouching down to say a few words in a low voice.
After that, Doctor Zhao, Director Luo, and Zhou the interpreter jointly lifted Will onto a nearby hospital bed and hurriedly pushed him out.
When Zhou the interpreter reached the doorway, he paused and turned back to look at Song Yueying. She was calmly eating an orange, as if everything that had just happened had nothing to do with her at all.
After the others left, the police also escorted the nurse away.
The ward instantly fell silent.
After finishing one orange, Song Yueying picked up another, peeled it, and continued eating. She felt she had “lost” a pill, which left her a little unhappy, so she needed to eat an extra orange to make up for it.
“How come I don’t remember you giving me any pill?” The silence was broken by Zhao Jianzhu. His dark, deep eyes stared straight at Song Yueying, as if trying to bore a hole through her.
Lifting her eyelids slightly, Song Yueying asked, “Are you questioning me?”
“I’m stating a fact,” Zhao Jianzhu replied.
Song Yueying raised her brows, an idea forming in her mind. “Looks like your memory really isn’t very good. For example, you insisted I had a wound on my forehead when I clearly didn’t.”
“And then there’s the fact that I gave you a pill before bringing you to the hospital, which you don’t even remember.”
“You don’t look very old, but your memory is already this poor. When Doctor Zhao comes back later, I suggest you let him check your brain.”
Hearing that she was indirectly saying he had something wrong with his head, Zhao Jianzhu retorted, “If my memory is bad, yours isn’t any better.”
“Earlier you said you hit your head against a wall and had a concussion. You also said you were dizzy and your memory was confused, and now you’re denying you ever hit the wall.”
He concluded, “Your memory isn’t good either.”
This was someone who kept old accounts. Song Yueying suddenly felt like she had shot herself in the foot. She feigned confusion and asked, “Did I really say that?”
“Yes,” Zhao Jianzhu replied with certainty.