Chapter 8
Behind the HSBC Bank on Victoria Road, a European-style three-story building is surrounded by a grove of English elms. A black Pontiac slowly drove into the welcoming grove from the left and disappeared into the back garden shrouded in the darkness of night.
After the car came to a stop, two male servants in black suits ran out from under the porch of the Western-style building and respectfully opened the back door for the young master. Tang Zefei stepped out of the car and stood in front of the gate, looking up at the dimly lit Western-style building. The chill of late autumn seeped into his thin overcoat.
"Is Father in?" Tang Zefei asked the male servant beside him as he entered the building. The servant nodded and took the coat Tang Zefei had taken off. "Master is in the study. Young Master, would you like to be led there?"
"No need, I'll go myself," Tang Zefei dismissed the servant. The study was on the first floor, and he habitually knocked on the door before entering.
"Dad? I'm coming in." He entered the study and saw his father writing something at his desk.
"You're back." Don Weiss glanced at him, his hands moving swiftly.
"Hmm." Tang Zefei stood there, her gaze fixed on his desk, as if she were pondering something.
"Did you go to the tailor shop? How's Dad's suit?"
“The collar is too big, let’s alter it.” Tang Zefei paused. “Dad, I don’t know if you remember,” he said directly, “the first school I attended for primary school was Mary’s Church School. Do you have a list of the people at that school?”
“What do you need this for?” Mister Tang asked.
"I suddenly remembered a classmate I used to get along with quite well, and I'd like to know how that person is doing now," Tang Zefei said.
“That church closed permanently a long time ago. They said they'd build a new factory there; it's a remote area anyway,” Mister Tang finally finished his writing, capped his pen, and set it aside. He stood up, held the blank sheet of paper in both hands, looked at it, and nodded with satisfaction. Then he put the paper down and finally looked Tang Zefei in the eye. “Why did you think of this?” Without waiting for Tang Zefei's answer, he changed his mind. “Oh, Tang Zefei, have you found the murderer who killed Li Shu?”
“Dad, I’m sorry, not yet,” Tang Zefei said with a helpless expression. After thinking for a moment, he said, “Yesterday I went to Beiyang Hospital. Forensic doctor Liu told me that Lishu was hit directly in the heart by a 5.56mm bullet, and it was in a very deep position. Judging from the location of Lishu’s wound and the distance between the place of death and the building, it is inferred that the person who killed him was hiding indoors and was very skilled.”
“We can’t delay any longer. His body needs to be cremated. Poor Lishu… he can’t rest in peace because of this…” Mister Tang’s eyes drooped, and he rubbed his cheeks with both hands. “What you’re saying is useless. It only makes me more heartbroken. I just want to know why the murderer still hasn’t been found?”
"The murderer hid among the crowd indoors, but he did it very discreetly. There were almost no witnesses to his actions that day."
"Is this what your men found after five days?" Mister Tang was clearly angry. His drooping eyebrows straightened, and he looked at Tang Zefei. "Dad entrusted you with his most capable and trusted guards. Is this how you trained them?"
"dad…"
Mister Tang was silent for a moment before muttering, "These people are so useless... Tang Zefei, you have disappointed your father!"
Tang Zefei paused slightly, then spoke faster, "No, Dad, listen to me. I don't think we can focus entirely on Lishu. Since the murderer was so meticulous, he must have made sure Lishu was safe. But what if something goes wrong elsewhere?"
"Tang Zefei, these are all your assumptions, aren't they?"
"..." Tang Zefei paused, looking at her father, "Dad, what's your opinion on this matter?"
“Go on with your story.” Mister Tang, who had been leaning against the table with his arms crossed, stared at him with a calm gaze.
Tang Zefei was the same height as his father, or even a little taller. At this moment, the look in his eyes as he looked at his father had changed. Anxiety was not usually seen in him, but now, there was a faint tendency to be. He quickly thought it over and carefully chose his words, "Father, what I mean is, since the guards of the Lin Mansion carefully checked every visitor that day, the problem must not be what it appears on the surface. I suggest that we look for it from inside the Lin Mansion."
"how?"
"If the bodyguards, servants, and drivers at the Lin mansion were attentive, they would surely notice something. Even without them, the Lin mansion itself is likely shrouded in mystery; a thorough investigation would be invaluable..."
“That’s the logic, but do you know how difficult it is?” Mister Tang pursed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, and he made a heavy “crack” sound. “Li Shu died there, did I not consider that? But think about it, what kind of person is Lord Lin? To do this is simply reckless, he doesn’t take this matter to heart at all!”
"What else can we do? The person died there, and there's no point in us getting angry here." Tang Zefei's words turned cold and hard. He didn't move, but his gaze darkened. Faced with his unreasonable father, he felt somewhat disheartened. He even suddenly recalled something from when he was very young. When his younger brother died, was his father ever as angry as he was now? So his gaze returned to his father's face.
Tang Weisen Lois remained leaning against the table, his gaze fixed on Tang Zefei. He had lost the gentle elegance of his youth; his weary eyes now reflected a weariness of spirit. It seemed that with the deepening wrinkles of time, his appearance had changed, and so had his temperament. His growing success in business hadn't tamed his temper; he had become increasingly eccentric and irritable. It was unclear what debt he was paying off, but he often lashed out at another person with no blood relation, even his only biological son. This son, in his eyes, wasn't particularly close to him despite their blood ties, and at times felt like a stranger.
“I don’t want to argue with you anymore, but you must remember, Tang Lishu has lived in our house for ten years. If these ten years don’t mean anything to you, then there’s nothing I can do.” Mister Tang shook his head, turned around, and went back to his desk to tidy up the edges of the letters and papers. He hadn’t heard Tang Zefei’s reply for a long time. He gathered a stack of papers and placed them aside, then looked up and saw that Tang Zefei had already left the study, perhaps going upstairs.
He shook his head, stepped out from behind his desk, and thought that his cold war with his son would last for several more days. Just then, a maid ran over and knocked on the door anxiously, "Master, the eldest young master is anemic again!"
Wilson Lois looked up, sighed with great distress, put down the paper, and quickly went out the door. The maid followed behind, and Mister Tang said as he walked, "Quickly, call Dr. Xu over."
"Yes, sir." The maid acknowledged the order and left. Dr. Xu was the Tang family's doctor, and his visit took only a dozen minutes. Mister Tang turned around and went upstairs, heading towards the eldest young master's bedroom.
The bedroom door was open. Tang Zefei, fully clothed, leaned against the sofa by the window, head tilted back, arms outstretched, eyes closed as if resting. A closer look revealed fine beads of sweat on his forehead. Two male servants stood to the side, carrying a bowl of Eight Treasures Soup and dissolving donkey-hide gelatin in water. Mister Tang walked straight over and asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Still the same." Tang Zefei slightly opened her eyes and murmured, "Have Dr. Xu come and give her a blood transfusion."
“He called.” Mister Tang stood beside the sofa, frowning slightly as he looked at his son’s face—his hair was loose and hanging down the back of the sofa, revealing his smooth forehead, pale cheeks, and thin skin with a faint bluish-purple tinge. His lips were tightly pressed together, as if he were clenching his teeth. Mister Tang had never been anemic, nor did he suffer from anemia frequently, so he naturally didn’t know the pain involved. Therefore, besides his usual helplessness, there was nothing he could do.
Before long, Dr. Xu arrived. This older female doctor had studied abroad in her youth and was quite proficient in Western medicine. She placed her crossbody suitcase steadily to the side and took out a metal box from it.
The metal box was opened, revealing it filled with ice. Inside the box was a glass jar containing a blood-red liquid. Dr. Xu skillfully connected the jar to a metal filter, rubber tubing, and needle, then walked over to Tang Zefei on the sofa. He approached him, opened his eyelids to look at him, then knelt down and squeezed his wrist.
Tang Zefei's eyes were slightly open, and his body was trembling slightly. After confirming the symptoms, Dr. Xu laid one of his arms flat on his side, rolled up his sleeve, and carefully inserted a thick needle into the vein between his elbow and forearm. The three-way connector and catheter connected to the glass jar slowly channeled fresh, blood-matching blood into Tang Zefei's body using gravity. For a moment, the room was completely silent; everyone held their breath, even Mister Tang—because this was almost his most anxious and uneasy moment.
While others were tense, the patient, Tang Zefei, accepted the dangerous procedure with complete relaxation and peace of mind. Despite the import of Western equipment and medical technology into China in recent years, it is still impossible to ignore that direct or indirect blood transfusion remains an extremely dangerous and unreliable procedure.
Half an hour later, Dr. Xu removed the needle from Tang Zefei's arm. Tang Zefei, with a slight frown, leaned back and closed her eyes, having already fallen asleep amidst a slightly uncomfortable rejection reaction.
Mister Tang was preoccupied with trivial matters and had long since disappeared to handle his affairs. Seeing this, Dr. Xu put on her stethoscope to check Tang Zefei's heart rate again, and then whispered some instructions to the male servant beside her. Dr. Xu looked at the handsome young man's face; he was both a doctor and an elder. She sighed silently, picked up a blanket, and covered Tang Zefei with it. Then she packed her things and left to report the young master's condition to the butler.
Dr. Xu remembered the first time she met Tang Zefei; Tang Zefei was only eight years old. It was winter, and Tang Zefei, wearing a thick sheepskin hat and carrying a very square leather satchel, stood in the snow outside the clinic waiting for her. The housekeeper held his hand, and he leaned shivering against the housekeeper's lap. Despite the cold weather, Tang Zefei's little face, hidden under his scarf, was covered in cold sweat. The housekeeper handed his shivering hand to Dr. Xu, and Dr. Xu was immediately at a loss when she saw him.
At that time, Master Tang had been away for many days without returning, and even his wife was nowhere to be found. During this time, the eldest son, Tang Zefei, inexplicably began to feel weak, experience chest tightness, sweating, and chills every few days. At first, no one paid much attention, and the doctors they consulted always diagnosed him with "damp-heat in the liver and gallbladder, and blood heat causing internal turmoil," prescribing medicines to relieve the heat and fire, but these had little effect. The butler, nearly fifty years old, had watched Tang Zefei grow up. Seeing him constantly dizzy and weak, and with his parents nowhere to be seen, the butler felt extremely sorry for him. He took it upon himself to take the young master to a major hospital on behalf of the master and mistress, spending lavishly to seek medical treatment, and finally managed to find a doctor, Dr. Xu, who had studied abroad, for Tang Zefei.
Dr. Xu was from Beiping (Beijing). She had left her hometown in her teens to study medicine abroad and held relatively progressive views. Upon seeing Tang Zefei, she used a combination of Western medical theory and traditional Chinese medicine knowledge to carefully examine the child. She realized that the child's condition was far from a simple case of chills and fever. After consulting with the housekeeper, she understood that the child's symptoms were indeed unusual; while not extremely rare, they were complex and difficult to diagnose. Just then, Tang Zefei experienced a stomachache and vomited violently. The vomit contained a mixture of yellow fluid and blood, which Dr. Xu immediately understood.
When Tang Zefei was eight years old, she was diagnosed with an unnamed acute blood deficiency syndrome, which resembled anemia but was not quite the same. Common remedies for anemia were ineffective for young Tang Zefei.
This serious illness immediately caused great anxiety throughout the Tang family. That evening, Mr. Tang and his wife returned home, anxiously questioning their son about his condition. Dr. Xu, under immense pressure, insisted that he couldn't guarantee the illness wouldn't be life-threatening. However, this alone was enough to torment everyone. Tang Zefei was the only son of the Tang family; how could he possibly experience dizziness or even death from emotional distress? Afterwards, Mr. Tang spent a fortune on medicine, and Tang Zefei took Western medicine, along with traditional Chinese medicine and dietary therapy, but the illness persisted and couldn't be cured. This ordeal continued for over six months, and the Tang family's anxiety remained unresolved. Dr. Xu was forced to propose the risky method of blood transfusion.
But is a blood transfusion something that just anyone can get? Leaving aside the lack of a proper hospital blood transfusion system and the rarity of imported equipment, finding someone with the same blood type is extremely difficult. And if it's not an on-site transfusion, storing blood is also a major hurdle. Every step is fraught with difficulty, and sometimes, when Mister Tang gets frustrated, he truly wishes he could exchange his blood for gold—one gram of gold for one gram of compatible blood!
As an elder, Dr. Xu felt sorry for Tang Zefei, both emotionally and logically. She was willing to work hard for Tang Zefei, and studied the disease day and night for a while. One day, she went to Mr. Tang and said that she could give it a try.
That was Tang Zefei's first time receiving a blood transfusion. It wasn't a live blood draw; enduring the discomfort, Tang Zefei watched with great curiosity as the doctor took a vial of bright red liquid from an icebox.
Inside was fresh blood drawn from the unnamed person whose blood type matched. Tang Zefei watched the doctor's every move intently, his eyes unblinking even as the needle was inserted into his arm, as if he had lost all awareness of pain. He felt almost nothing as the blood flowed into his body, but Tang Zefei felt a jolt, a sudden, inexplicable sadness washing over him. Turning his head, he noticed the similar tension on the faces of those around him. Tang Zefei exhaled, his eyes no longer fixed on the syringe, but instead silently glancing at the glass jar, unable to understand why he was lacking such a large vial of blood. Then he would feel drowsy; the transfusion process was long, giving him enough time to doze off after the tide of his grief subsided.
…
Dr. Xu averted her gaze from the butler's clasped hands, then looked away and silently pursed her lips. This was nearly their twentieth year of knowing each other, and she had to consider other things. However, after her silence, she didn't speak again. She knew that, given Tang Zefei's physical condition, her current state was already remarkably resilient.
The butler escorted her to the courtyard. Dr. Xu quickly glanced at her pocket watch; it was time for her to go home. Midnight. The autumn wind swept fallen leaves across the streets, carrying with it her anxieties and turmoil. She recalled some past events. Almost ten years ago, she had overheard from the Tang family butler that the eldest son of the Tang family was engaged to the daughter of a high-ranking military officer in Beiping, but the engagement had inexplicably fallen through. A few days ago, still worried, she bought a rumor from a newspaper and learned that the engagement had long been nullified, the reason being that the young lady had run away without permission. This was a shameful affair, and the wealthy were ashamed to speak of it, never mentioning it openly again. The marriage between the Tianjin tycoon and the Beiping officer ended abruptly. Unaware of the true story, it was hastily buried by the force of public opinion. Only Dr. Xu seemed to know the answer in the darkness.
She's starting to believe that Mr. Tang's adoption of his godson was probably out of necessity.
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