Songshan Sanatorium is located in a valley far away from the city, surrounded by the bleak dead forest in late winter. The iron-gray high walls and strict electronic access control cut off all prying eyes and noise from the outside world, leaving only a suffocating, cold order and dead silence.
A black Bentley Bentayga with cold and hard lines rolled over the private road covered with light snow and dead leaves, and stopped silently in front of the inconspicuous, heavy metal door on the side of the main building of the sanatorium.
The car door opened and Qin Yuheng stepped out.
He was wearing a very exquisitely tailored shirt with the collar turned up meticulously, which made his neck look slender and cold.
He was not wearing sunglasses, and his handsome, almost bewitching face was exposed to the cold air. His eyes were narrow and long, and his gaze was calm and still, like a deep pool.
The layer of ice between him and Qin Yuzheng seemed to have melted a little, and a secret and firm warm current flowed in his heart, making him look less evil and ostentatious than before, and more restrained and in control of everything.
The dean, already waiting at the door in a white coat, came forward to greet him. His demeanor was respectful but with a subtle nervousness. "Mr. Qin, you're here. The person has been arranged in the special observation room as you instructed."
Qin Yuheng nodded slightly, without even giving him a glance, and walked straight into the open metal door with his long legs.
The smell of cold disinfectant mixed with some indescribable, dull smell of psychotropic drugs hit me in the face.
The corridor was empty, bright, and spotless. The shiny floor tiles reflected the pale light on the ceiling. The footsteps echoed in the silence, adding a bit of oppression.
The director and two burly, expressionless male nurses followed closely behind, like silent shadows.
After passing through several heavy isolation doors that required card swipes and passwords, they finally stopped in front of a room marked "S-07." The dean swiped his access card to unlock the door, and the heavy frosted glass door slid open silently.
The Special Observation Room. It was more like a carefully designed, sterile glass cage than a hospital ward. The room was spacious, minimalist, and devoid of sharp objects.
A huge one-way glass wall occupies the entire wall. Everything inside can be clearly seen from the outside, but only a blurry mirror can be seen from the inside.
At this moment, in the white-cushioned armchair fixed to the floor in the middle of the room, there was a person sitting.
Ning Yunmeng.
In just a few months, the once arrogant and scheming "real daughter" of the Ning family has completely withered away.
She was wearing a uniform blue and white striped hospital gown, which hung loosely on her skinny, almost shapeless body.
The exposed wrist was so thin that it seemed as if it would break if bent. The skin was sickly pale from not seeing the sun for a long time, and the blue veins were faintly visible.
The chestnut curly hair that was once carefully groomed was now dry and yellow, scattered messily on the shoulders, with a few strands of hair sticking to the sweaty forehead.
Her face was deeply sunken, with prominent cheekbones and deep eye sockets, covered with thick, indelible blue-black shadows.
Those almond-shaped eyes that were once beautiful and full of calculations were now as empty as two dry wells, without any spirit. They were just staring blankly and out of focus at a certain point in the void ahead.
His lips were cracked and slightly open, and there seemed to be a trace of solidified, suspicious, shiny saliva at the corner of his mouth.
Her body was curled up in the chair in an extremely awkward posture, her hands nervously clutching the corners of her hospital gown, her knuckles turning deathly white from the excessive force.
His right leg was shaking uncontrollably, slightly, and continuously, causing the entire chair to emit an extremely subtle but teeth-grinding creaking sound.
Those are irreversible extrapyramidal side effects caused by long-term use of powerful sedatives and antipsychotic drugs.
She was like a broken doll with its soul drained out and only a rotten shell left, thrown away in this cold cage.
All the ambitions, hatred, and calculations that he once had were crushed to pieces, leaving only this broken body that was barely surviving under the control of drugs and whose self-awareness was blurred.
Qin Yuheng stood outside the one-way glass wall, his hands casually tucked into his coat pockets, his posture tall and elegant.
He calmly stared at the haggard, living-dead-like woman behind the glass wall. There was no pity, no disgust, not even a trace of emotion in his eyes.
The dean carefully observed Qin Yuheng's expression and reported in a low voice, "Mr. Qin, the patient's current condition is relatively stable...mainly maintained by medication."
"His mood swings are still significant, and he has a tendency to self-harm and aggression, so he needs to be restrained and closely monitored... His cognitive function... has severely deteriorated, and he spends most of his time in a state of stupor or delirium, unable to communicate effectively..."
Qin Yuheng listened without any change of expression. He tilted his head slightly and gestured to the dean.
The dean immediately understood what he meant and picked up the intercom on the wall. His voice was clearly transmitted into the observation room through the loudspeaker, with a formulaic coldness: "Ning Yunmeng, someone is here to see you."
In the observation room, Ning Yunmeng, who was curled up in a chair, suddenly trembled violently, as if struck by an invisible electric current.
Those empty, lifeless eyes suddenly burst out with an extremely distorted scarlet light mixed with great fear and resentment.
She was like a trapped beast that was awakened and on the verge of death, and a hoarse roar like a broken bellows came from her throat.
“Ahhhh——!!!” A scream that was so shrill that it didn’t sound like a human voice suddenly tore through the deathly silence in the observation room.
She struggled frantically, trying to break free from the invisible restraints. Her skinny fingers convulsively scratched the armrests of the chair, her nails scraping against the cushions, making a harsh "swish" sound.
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