Chapter 15

At five in the morning, Meng Zixian ran along the coastline outside the campground. The sea was dark, slowly rising and falling like a tired animal. The temperature was around 20 degrees Celsius, and humidity was rising from the ground and cracks in the rocks. There was a lingering, stuffy feeling in the air. He hadn't even finished warming up yet, and the coolness from his cold shower had already evaporated.

Meng Zixian became increasingly convinced that his sensitivity to ambient temperature was a symptom of mental illness, a theory his psychiatrist, Dr. Patel, had long ago proposed. He had been deployed to Darvash Province four times, with stints ranging from two months to six months. The summers there were long and scorching, the wind swirling with heat and fine sand, leaving white ripples on the soles of his military boots and scorching metal train husks. Even now, the fleeting notion of scorching heat always brought back unpleasant memories.

The drowsiness caused by this temperature is affecting his training performance. In the past two weeks, he even considered whether he should move back to New York because the weather there is colder. But he immediately kicked this weak idea out of his mind and forced his thoughts back to his steps and breathing.

"Medications can also help," Patel said.

"No need." Meng Zixuan replied.

"That's my professional opinion," Patel stressed.

"I don't accept it." Meng Zixuan said.

"I know what you're afraid of. Today I'll prescribe you a bottle of diazepam. You take one tablet in the morning according to the dosage. Tomorrow your girlfriend dumps you for no reason, or your boss makes a stupid plan, and your one tablet is no longer effective. So I'll give you two, or maybe you say, why not swallow the medicine with whiskey? Soon, you'll have finished the three-month supply bottle in a month..."

"Do you still have your license?" Meng Zixian questioned Patel's professionalism.

Patel smiled and said, "What I mean is that you don't have to worry too much about long-term drug dependence. You have a stable career, a healthy lifestyle, and good social relationships. As long as you follow your doctor's advice, medication can be a very effective aid for you."

Meng Zixuan said I don’t need it.

When he stopped after three miles, sweat soaked the back of his neck and shoulder blades. Deep water seeped into his black quick-drying shirt, reaching his waistline. A few hundred meters away, Meng Zixian saw two people descending the mountainside along wooden ladders from the col. Chen Huan walked in front, clutching the thick hemp rope railings, and Li Ting followed behind her. The two of them were a few steps apart, occasionally exchanging a word. From the distance, Meng Zixian couldn't see their expressions.

The stairs curved twice along the mountainside, and at each bend, Chen Huan's figure was blocked by layers of branches and leaves. Meng Zixuan's phone vibrated against his upper arm. He pulled it out and glanced down. Sylvia asked him, "Will you arrive at Dulles Airport tomorrow?"

Meng Zixian replied: Tomorrow morning’s flight, arriving on Monday.

Sylvia: I'll pick you up on Monday when I don't have classes. Send me the itinerary.

Meng Zixuan hesitated for a moment, then opened the app, took a screenshot and sent it to her.

When Meng Zixuan looked up again, Chen Huan was gone. His eyes searched back and forth among the leaves, and after a while he saw them standing at the next corner, chatting. There was a wooden chair installed, and the slope gradually became gentle. Li Ting supported the back of the chair with one hand and fanned himself with his baseball cap with the other. Chen Huan unscrewed the cap of the mineral water bottle and handed it to him. Li Ting waved his baseball cap to refuse.

They walked onto the beach, which was devoid of umbrellas, chairs, or tourists. Li Ting took off his shirt and trousers without a word to her, and without looking back, he walked into the water, leaving Chen Huan alone on the shore. She looked a little bewildered, glancing around as if searching for something.

Meng Zixuan thought she was waiting for someone. Other friends, Lou Hetai and Lu Xiaofan, also said yesterday that they would come to the beach in the morning.

Then Meng Zixuan realized that she was looking for a place to change clothes. But there was nothing repaired on the beach. Chen Huan squatted on the ground, folded the clothes that Li Ting took off, put them in her bag, and pulled out a light green bath towel from it, wrapped it under her armpits, stood up, and began to take off her clothes under the bath towel. She preferred a knitted top with shoulder straps and white wide-leg trousers. She preferred a less practical outfit, and her movements were not very chic. One hand held the bath towel, and only one hand was busy. She called Li Ting again, but Li Ting was already splashing in the water and probably couldn't hear her.

Chen Huan took off her shirt. The morning light fell on her shoulders, casting a golden edge. Her hair, tied up in a pile, fell loosely at the back of her head. She was calling Li Ting again, which made people feel a little annoyed. But Chen Huan persisted in calling, again and again, walking towards the sea. She seemed to be unable to find Li Ting. She looked to the left, then to the right, and finally her gaze fixed.

It was not until this time that Meng Zixuan realized something was wrong. He turned his gaze to the sea. Li Ting was only thirty or forty yards away from the shore, but his back was frozen there. His arms were not paddling, but floating on the surface with his head tilted to one side, occasionally emerging from the water with the waves.

Meng Zixian ran down the sandy slope, checking Li Ting's position as he ran. Li Ting was facedown in the water, spinning slightly. The receding tide carried him even further away. Chen Huan, as if idiotic, stumbled forward, following his gaze. A wave came over and caused her to stumble.

Meng Zixuan shouted to Shen Huan: "Come back."

The sound of the waves was so loud, she didn't know if she heard it, but she was still moving forward unconsciously. The water covered her chest, and she began to paddle, her movements twisted and turned by the waves. Meng Zixuan didn't remember if Chen Huan could swim, but she couldn't pull Li Ting back. He rushed to the shore, kicked off his shoes, ran a few steps in the shallows, and dived into the water. He swam up behind her, wrapped his right arm around her chest and abdomen, pulled her back, and whispered in her ear to go back to shore and call an ambulance.

When Meng Zixian dragged Li Ting ashore and laid him flat on the beach, he was not breathing and his eyelids were tightly closed. Meng Zixian reached out and pried open Li Ting's jaw, felt inside and felt for nothing. He grabbed a nearby schoolbag and used it to raise his head and open his airway.

Chen Huan had just hung up the phone and knelt beside them. She said in a trembling voice that there was no hospital on the island, but there was an emergency station. Someone had been sent over, and the ambulance would have to drive from Rongcheng, which might take more than ten minutes. Two or three more people arrived at the side without knowing when. A man's voice kept repeating "it's over, it's over," his voice a little shrill. Meng Zixuan realized it was Li Ting's assistant, Xing Bin.

Meng Zixian pressed on Li Ting's chest, once every half a second, counting in his mind: one, two, three. Breathe, breathe, even if it means spitting. Li Ting's face, pale from being soaked, overlapped with another face. He smelled that scalding smell again. The smell of diesel and burnt rubber. A loud bang ripped through the air.

Meng Zixian pulled his thoughts back to twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Dust obscured the sun, and as the flying sand fell, he struggled to open his eyes. Just a few feet away from him lay the tactical glove. Looking up along the glove, the arm was broken. He didn't know whose it belonged to, but the knuckles were still tightly gripping the rifle.

There was a faint groan not far away. Meng Zixian looked in the direction of the sound. Henry Schumer's lower body was gone, but his chest was still rising and falling, and his mouth was opening and closing faintly. Henry wanted to live so badly. At that moment, Meng Zixian still held on to hope. Henry would be the captain without legs, sitting in a wheelchair, smiling and walking to the stadium with him.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. Stop thinking, Meng Zixian ordered himself. He pinched Li Ting's nostrils, performed two artificial respirations, and then resumed compressions. Li Ting's body swayed slightly, and seawater gushed out of his mouth from time to time. Meng Zixian tilted his head to let the water pour out. Li Ting finally coughed violently, followed by a breath mixed with water and choking.

When the emergency personnel arrived, Li Ting was already breathing but unconscious, and his right leg was twitching with cramps. A few minutes later, he was carried into the ambulance on a stretcher, and the medical staff asked Shen Huan if he had any underlying diseases.

She took the police car, while Meng Zixian got in Lou Hetai's car. They rushed to the First Provincial Hospital in Rongcheng in three cars. They had initially assumed the matter would be a morning affair, but the doctor announced that Li Ting's condition was more complex than simply a case of fainting after falling into the water. The initial diagnosis was a subarachnoid hemorrhage, possibly caused by the temperature change after entering the water, breath-holding, and other factors. With no time to transfer back to Hancheng, Li Ting was wheeled into the operating room.

Chen Huan called several senior executives to inform them that Li Ting had suddenly suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and that they needed to come up with an emergency plan before the news was announced. Xingbin sent someone back to the island to retrieve everyone's luggage and set up a tent next to the hospital hotel.

Meng Zixian was going back to Hancheng this afternoon and would fly to the Special Administrative Region tomorrow morning. He hadn't driven, so Xingbin said he would send a driver to take him. Meng Zixian said he had bought a high-speed rail ticket.

He went to his hotel room to shower, change, and collect his luggage. He coughed a few times in the restroom. Last week, he went to the hospital for a follow-up check and asked if he could go into the water for training. The doctor said not yet, especially not with weights. His chest had just closed, and he needed to prevent spasms or infection. After a few coughs, he calmed down.

Meng Zixuan packed his backpack in two minutes and opened the door to his room. Chen Huan was standing outside. He didn't know when she came, as she didn't knock. It shouldn't have been long; he had been in there for about ten minutes.