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墨書 Inktalez
By the time the positioning paper could be burned, it was already four in the morning. Song Bunan yawned as he stood outside the building, nearly dozing off against the crumbling wall while waiting for the Ghost Messengers. When the familiar shadow finally appeared, he felt tears welling up in his eyes.
“It’s unreasonable not to raise my pay, guys,” Song Bunan complained, taking advantage of the situation. The Ghost Messengers suddenly leaned in closer, bringing with them an aura of death from below. Song Bunan always pretended to be indifferent to this behavior, but in reality, he relished that feeling.
He had heard Xiao Mei describe the aura of death in his eyes as akin to opening a freezer filled with frozen zombie flesh—cold, bloody, and lingering in one’s nostrils. However, Song Bunan had a different perspective; to him, the aura resembled the scent of standing in a forest during a snowy winter, where everything in the world was hidden within it, fresh and vibrant.
At that moment, the aura enveloped him completely. He blinked and looked into the abyss-like interior of the hood, which resembled a mysterious bottomless pit in the deep sea, possessing a magic that could draw everything in.
Moreover, he knew that the Ghost Messenger was also watching him. The feeling of being stared at seemed to come from deep within his skull, carrying a danger that rendered his sixth sense useless. Yet he felt no fear at all; he boldly locked eyes with it, as if competing to see who would blink first.
He lost. His lack of rest left his eyes dry and gritty; keeping them open for too long without blinking made him feel as if they might crack. He closed his eyes painfully and struggled to produce some tears for relief before he could open them again.
A hand emerged from the black mist, offering a small package wrapped in coarse cloth. From the outside, it was impossible to tell what was inside. When Song Bunan realized there was indeed something for him, he became shy and silly, rubbing his hands together for a while before accepting it. He thanked the Ghost Messenger and even blew a kiss.
The ghosts waiting to be taken away in the tunnel were stunned; it turned out that someone could truly get along with the Ghost Messengers.
Inside the cloth package was a bracelet made of intertwined gold and silver threads. It had no intricate patterns and resembled a twisted braid, with a turquoise embedded at its connection point. It felt heavy in his hand.
Song Bunan nearly popped his eyes out in surprise. He waved the bracelet in front of the Ghost Messenger multiple times to confirm that this was indeed his reward. The Ghost Messenger seemed somewhat irritated by his incessant questioning and tugged at his backpack, tossing it aside.
Once he regained his balance, Song Bunan was certain this was his reward. With a beaming smile, he slipped the bracelet onto his wrist and admired it from every angle, mumbling to himself about how well it suited him.
“Kid, aren’t you afraid?” The old man who had spoken to Song Bunan earlier floated over with an enigmatic expression. Lost in admiration of his new accessory, Song Bunan grinned widely and casually replied, “Afraid of what? I’ve known them since I was little; we’re quite familiar.”
In this regard, Song Bunan wasn’t lying. Ever since he had been severely injured as a child and had two near-death experiences but was brought back to life, Ghost Messengers and spirits had become part of his life. In his childhood, they seemed to take a liking to him; they would occasionally appear in his dreams without speaking and simply take him around to see many sights that weren’t of this world.
As he grew older and could help out more, they began leaving many tasks for him without explanation. One of his most vivid memories was when he was still in middle school; on New Year’s Eve, he was dragged out to help find spirits and barely made it home before midnight—only to almost be thrown into a pot by his brother for soup. It was only thanks to his mother’s intervention that he explained he had been accompanying an elderly man who had lost his family—something good.
From that point on, these Ghost Messengers seemed no different from elderly people in Song Bunan's eyes.
Exhausted, Song Bunan watched as the ghosts disappeared into the gradually brightening jungle alongside the Ghost Messenger. Checking the time, he realized it was already six in the morning. He felt like a fish thrown ashore, drained of all its moisture. Taking out his phone, he called Xiao Mei to inform her that he would likely be late.
"I'm nearly a hundred kilometers away from New Life Hospital," he added, attaching a wry smile emoji.
The response came quickly; it seemed she had anticipated this outcome. She replied that a car was already on its way to pick him up and told him to wait there. Assuming they would take another route, Song Bunan trudged forward with heavy steps. It was a bright sunny day, and the morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, bringing a touch of warmth.
He exerted himself to stretch his body in an attempt to shake off the fatigue, and his joints cracked with the movement. As the sound of the approaching vehicle grew louder, Song Bunan managed to muster a more alert demeanor to face whoever was coming.
Then he saw a familiar face behind the car window—dark as a pot bottom. It was Song Buxian.
"Your brother came by last night asking where you were. I told him you went traveling at Mang Mountain," she said. The delayed message, due to poor signal, felt like a cruel blow. At that moment, Song Bunan wished he could pretend to be blind and sneak away from the car.
He cautiously sat in the back seat, avoiding eye contact with Song Buxian's face. The driver remained unusually silent, speeding down the road much faster than usual. Song Bunan quietly fastened his seatbelt, fearing that if his brother was displeased, he might get tossed out of the car.
"Going to the hospital?" The words seemed to be squeezed out from between Song Buxian's teeth, his voice trembling with restrained anger, piercing into Song Bunan's ears like needles. With a stiff neck and an overwhelming sense of guilt, Song Bunan muttered an affirmative response without looking at him.
"Why are you going?" He hadn’t told his family about going to New Life Hospital; after all, knowing about such plans would only complicate matters further. Faced with his brother's inquiry, countless reasons flashed through his mind—reasons he had rehearsed a thousand times—but ultimately he chose to tell the truth. His lies never seemed to work against Song Buxian.
"We're investigating the lab. We found that New Life Hospital has significant suspicions against it, so we're collaborating with Jiang Family Hospital under the guise of an exchange program to conduct an investigation." He cautiously glanced at Song Buxian’s expression in the rearview mirror and noticed that his previously darkened face had softened considerably. It dawned on him that his brother's anger wasn't about him venturing into the mountains.
"My alias is intern nurse Liu Xing," he added confidently, feeling reassured by his brother's change in mood. Leaning forward, he struck up a conversation with Song Buxian and noticed breakfast sitting in the passenger seat; without hesitation, he reached over and grabbed some.
"I think calling you brainless would be more appropriate," Song Buxian remarked as his mood lightened further and handed over a thermos filled with warmed milk at just the right temperature. In the back seat, Song Bunan happily indulged himself while joking that he would surely shine in the nursing profession.
Song Buxian ignored him and managed to drop him off at Jiang Family Hospital before rush hour hit. Everyone fully equipped waited for him inside the car but were met with an onslaught of questions from Xiao Mei about why he suddenly went off traveling alone without any messages.
Who considers work as travel? Leaning back against the bus seat, Song Bunan extended his wrist toward Xiao Mei to show her a bracelet—the two-tone precious metal sparkled under the sunlight. Xiao Mei frowned deeply and muttered, "So you went on a date?"
Taken aback by her accusation, Song Bunan withdrew his hand and shot her an incredulous glare. "This is payment! I sent off a big batch last night! I have to say those people are quite generous."
Unbelievable, Xiao Mei turned to ask Shui Su if the rewards had become so materialistic. Shui Su smiled, indicating that this was what Song Bunan deserved, but of course, the focus should still be on doing good deeds. The group laughed and brushed off the topic, while Song Bunan looked around and realized that Xin Yi was not on the bus.
"Stop looking; she's waiting at the entrance of New Life Hospital. Just look at you, so hopeless," Xiao Mei teased, resting her chin on her hand with a flirtatious glint in her eyes, clearly enjoying the show. Song Bunan ignored her and hugged his bag, planning to take a nice nap.
Shui Su reached out and pinched Xiao Mei's cheek, suggesting that they let Song Bunan sleep a little longer.
New Life Hospital was located in the Rongcheng Development Zone, surrounded mostly by half-finished high-rises that had been abandoned due to funding issues. The hospital backed onto an Artificial Lake, which was originally intended as a promotional feature for green living and closeness to nature. However, after being left unattended for a long time, it had turned into a filthy pond.
The exterior of the hospital was painted a soft yellow, and from a distance, the square building resembled a block of yellow tofu standing amidst a sea of decaying black structures. Above the building was a large pavilion-like resting area that could be clearly seen; it was said to be an aerial garden designed specifically for patients to relax and aid their recovery.
However, the road leading to the hospital was surprisingly difficult to navigate. In an era where even rural roads were paved with cement, the three-kilometer stretch around the hospital still retained its original dirt path appearance. It was already bumpy enough on ordinary days, and during rain or snow, it became nearly impassable.
The bus swayed as it traveled over this rough terrain; the driver gripped the steering wheel with all his might to keep the vehicle steady. Amidst his tension, he glanced at the passengers in the rearview mirror; several doctors looked pale, as if they might vomit rainbows at any moment from the jostling. He pretended not to see them, thinking that as long as he could get everyone there safely, it would be a success.
Xiao Mei had been discussing plans for their actions after arriving at the hospital with Shui Su when suddenly, just as they were nearing their destination, the bus began to sway violently. The windows rattled due to poor sealing, sounding like they were about to fall apart from the bumps. The seats creaked along with every movement, and the relentless shaking began to upset Song Bunan's stomach despite him usually not suffering from motion sickness.
It felt as if giant hands were kneading his brain while simultaneously pounding on his stomach; his breakfast from that morning stirred uncomfortably within him. Looking around, he noticed several others wearing similar expressions of discomfort. The nauseating yet restrained grimaces quickly spread like a virus among four-fifths of those on board.
Shui Su noticed this clearly and discreetly pulled a Lemon Candy from her pocket. Taking advantage of her position at the corner seat, she slipped it into Xiao Mei's mouth and suggested that closing her eyes and taking deep breaths would help. Meanwhile, Song Bunan remained utterly unaffected; he had already fallen into a deep sleep and even shifted positions amidst the bumps without waking.
As soon as the bus came to a steady stop in front of New Life Hospital's parking lot, people holding banners that read "Welcome Colleagues from Friendly Hospitals for Learning and Exchange" saw numerous medical staff rush out of the bus and squat by a tree pit to vomit profusely.
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