Chapter 067: A Drop of Blood

The moment Lin Yu dashed into the Baishan Sanatorium, he felt a thrill akin to breaking the finish line in a track race—a surge of victorious relief! This time, he had been racing against his own fate, and, fortunately, he had come out on top.

Following the path through the small gate, Lin Yu entered the sanatorium as two security guards closed in behind him. It was 7:20 p.m., leaving him an hour and ten minutes before his appointed meeting with Qi Yue.

A group of swaggering thugs, hurling curses as they pursued him, paused about ten meters from the main gate. They wielded crude weapons, but the two guards held compact submachine guns—clearly outmatching them. Even more telling, Lin Yu recognized these guards.

The gang hesitated, torn between advancing and retreating, uncertain what to do. They needed Zhang Yang to decide for them.

After about five minutes, Zhang Yang strolled over, and upon seeing Lin Yu protected by the guards, realized his prey had slipped away. As a scion of officialdom, Zhang Yang knew well what kind of place Baishan Cadre Sanatorium was. Many of the seemingly ordinary elders within were not to be trifled with.

There’s a saying in Han dynasty statesman Chao Cuo’s "Memorial on Military Affairs": “If men risk their lives for victory and fall without recovering, regret will come too late.” This aptly described Zhang Yang’s feelings at the moment; he understood the perils of letting a tiger return to the mountains. Remembering Lin Yu’s frenzied state moments ago, a rare chill ran through Zhang Yang’s usually unflappable heart.

Having survived a great ordeal, Lin Yu—who could not yet know whether fortune or calamity awaited him—gave a devilish smile, extended his right index finger, and pointed at Zhang Yang. Blood from his arm trickled down, gathering at his fingertip and dripping to the ground, a strangely beautiful scarlet.

“Zhang Yang, until we meet again! Remember: blood debts must be paid in blood.”

With his body drenched in blood, Lin Yu whispered this, then collapsed to the ground.

Upon seeing him faint, the two guards immediately drove Zhang Yang and his men away. The taller of the two, Zhang Qiang, scooped Lin Yu up and ran towards the sanatorium’s medical room.

In fact, Lin Yu hadn’t lost consciousness. He was simply too weak to stand—from exhaustion and blood loss. The pain wasn’t sharp anymore; it had become a dull numbness, nearly robbing him of sensation. Lucid in mind, Lin Yu knew he’d merely lost too much blood, not enough to endanger his life. With some basic treatment and a transfusion, he would be safe.

Few could truly taste the terror and exhilaration of surviving at death’s door. On that edge, countless thoughts and faces flashed through Lin Yu’s mind.

As a doctor and two young nurses stitched and dressed his wounds, Lin Yu, lost in contemplation of his next steps, endured the cold sweat and shivering pain without a single groan. The youngest nurse, Tao Kele, glanced at him with admiration. His stoic bearing reminded her of the legendary general calmly scraping poison from his own bone—a quiet, compelling strength. Her heart fluttered, and her hands grew gentler as she cleaned away blood and scabs.

Later, during Lin Yu’s transfusion, the senior doctor and another nurse left Tao Kele to watch over him, giving her the chance she silently hoped for.

Lin Yu’s blood type was AB, the same as the revered Premier Zhou, as well as Presidents Clinton and Obama, and the iconic Marilyn Monroe. People with this blood type are often seen as refined, elegant, serene, and gentle—rarely revealing their true feelings, always making cool-headed and multi-faceted judgments, though their decisions tend toward strength or severity.

The greatest advantage of AB blood is its compatibility with other types, so even though the sanatorium’s blood supply was limited, Lin Yu received timely treatment.

As saline and blood slowly entered his veins, Lin Yu’s strength gradually returned. The pallor of his lips eased to a faint flush, though the pain from un-anaesthetized stitches remained sharp.

“Feeling better?” asked Tao Kele, her wide eyes sparkling as she winked at him with a sweet smile.

“Yes, much better. Thank you for your care,” Lin Yu replied calmly. He had already noticed Tao Kele’s special concern for him.

But Lin Yu was long past the age where a pretty girl’s attention could make his heart race. Though Tao Kele was indeed attractive, with her large, limpid eyes and angelic aura, she didn’t stir him. He was not one to fall for every pretty face.

“Rest a bit longer,” Tao Kele said, tucking in his blanket. She added quietly, “Just now, Elder Sun and Madam Wang came to see you, but I stopped them outside. When you’re feeling better, I’ll let them in.”

“What? That’s outrageous!” Lin Yu almost jumped out of bed in exasperation. Making two elders wait outside—what was she thinking?

“Please let them in, now!” he demanded, his tone sharp.

Seeing his sternness, Tao Kele’s delicate heart stung, her eyes instantly reddened. She muttered under her breath, “A dog bites the hand that feeds it.”

Watching her leave, cheeks puffed in indignation to fetch Elder Sun and Granny Wang, Lin Yu shook his head with a wry smile. How true, he thought, that women from Jiangnan are the most sentimental.

He also knew, though, that he and this girl were not destined for some fateful reunion—just two paths crossing briefly before fading from each other’s lives.

Before long, the two elders entered, guided by Tao Kele. Out of deep respect, Lin Yu rose to greet them as soon as they stepped in.

Elder Sun, surprisingly, did not object. He nodded, pulled out a chair for Madam Wang Ruyu, and then sat down himself. Lin Yu leaned against the bed, fighting the itchy pain of his wounds, gritting his teeth in silence.

Tao Kele gently urged him to lie back, but he only smiled. “No matter, I know my own body.”

Then Elder Sun asked softly, “What happened?”

Lin Yu recounted the story at a measured pace. As he spoke, Tao Kele listened in amazement, her eyes wide with shock. The elders, Sun Jin and Wang Yuru, remained calm, their faces tranquil as if nothing could disturb them.

When Lin Yu finished, Elder Sun simply said, “Rest well. I understand what happened.”

With that, he and the elegant Madam Wang left, their steps so light they seemed to leave no trace.

Bandaged like a mummy, Lin Yu reached for his phone to call Qi Yue and have her come find him. Only then did he realize both his phone and cigarettes were missing.

He asked Tao Kele, “Did you see my phone or cigarettes in my pockets?”

“No, there was nothing in your pockets,” she replied.

“Damn, I must have lost them in the fight. Looks like I’ll have to go to our meeting after all.”

Lin Yu knew all too well how stubborn Qi Yue could be—if he didn’t show up, she would surely wait for him.