A dozen minutes later, at the People's Hospital.
Police officer Zhao Zhengyong, supporting his knees and panting heavily, stopped a passing nurse.
"Nurse, could you please tell me how the emergency patient who was just brought in with massive bleeding is doing?"
The nurse was startled by his sweaty appearance and shook her head blankly: "No, there was only one case of alcohol poisoning in the emergency room tonight. I haven't heard of any patients with severe bleeding being brought in."
"Impossible!" Zhao Zhengyong's face turned pale, and he turned to his panting companions and shouted, "Spread out and ask around! It's impossible for Director Zhong to go all the way to the Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital, right?"
The group of people immediately scattered and ran around the hospital.
The result is obvious.
"Everyone says they haven't seen Director Zhong!"
"Where...where did that person go? They couldn't have gotten into a car accident on the way, could they?"
"Nonsense! We've been following you all the way here. If something really happened, wouldn't we have seen it?"
Where is that person?
Just as a group of police officers were looking at each other, at a loss, Zhao Daming rode his motorcycle and rushed to the hospital entrance with a murderous aura.
He jumped out of the car, looked at the group of headless flies in the lobby, and shouted in a deep voice, "Where is Zhang Cheng?!"
Zhao Zhengyong forced himself to step forward, his voice almost breaking with tears: "Director Zhao, Chief Zhong... Chief Zhong didn't come to the People's Hospital, he might... he might have gone to the Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital!"
"Hold!"
Zhao Daming let out a furious curse, his eyes instantly becoming bloodshot.
It takes at most five or six minutes by motorcycle from the police station to the People's Hospital! But to get to the Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital, it takes at least fifteen minutes by detour!
Massive bleeding! Is this saving a life or killing someone?!
"Zhong Te! I'll skin you alive!" Zhao Daming growled through gritted teeth. "What are you all still standing here for? Go to the Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital!"
"Oh oh oh!"
Zhao Daming himself turned and rushed outside, praying incessantly.
Brother Zhang, you absolutely mustn't get hurt!
The more he thought about it, the more frightened he became. Zhong Te was clearly deliberately stalling for time. If he were to be jostled around on the motorcycle all the way, even a miracle wouldn't be able to save him!
...
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the city, at the crematorium.
Zhong Te parked his motorcycle in the shade by the roadside and couldn't help but shrink his neck. The place was chilly and eerie at night, with gusts of cold wind blowing through it.
Cremation was not yet widespread, and this place was almost a forgotten corner, where not even a ghost could be seen.
"Tell me, is your plan... really reliable?" Zhong Te looked at Zhang Cheng, who jumped out of the back seat and was full of energy, and his heart was pounding.
"Don't worry, nothing will go wrong." Zhang Cheng dusted himself off and said with a smile, "Now that things have come to this, do you have any way out? Why don't you just shoot me right now, drag me inside and burn me, and be done with it?"
Zhong Te curled his lip: "Enough nonsense! I'm leaving first!"
"Don't rush." Zhang Cheng called out to him, gesturing with his chin towards the lonely guardhouse in the distance. "Go, get an urn, fill it with ashes, fill it to the brim."
"..." Zhong Te glared at him irritably, but resignedly walked over.
Watching Zhong Te's retreating figure, Zhang Cheng hummed an off-key tune, put his hands behind his head, and leisurely strolled away into the night.
A few minutes later, Zhong Te returned to the motorcycle carrying a heavy wooden box. He looked around but didn't see Zhang Cheng. Not caring, he got on the motorcycle, twisted the throttle, and sped away.
...
Half an hour later, at the Jiefang Road Police Station.
In the duty room, Zhao Daming was throwing a tantrum, slamming his fist on the table with a deafening roar.
"Hu Bingyang! I think your time as director is over! Tell me, where did Zhong Te take those people? You, a director, can't even control a deputy director? Have you been eating shit all these years?!"
Hu Bingyang's lips twitched, and he cursed Zhao Daming's ancestors for eighteen generations in his mind, but he didn't dare to say a word.
He now suspects that Zhong Te, that bastard, is determined to take this opportunity to kill Zhang Cheng.
Even Zhang Cheng's so-called "internal bleeding" was actually Zhong Te's doing in the interrogation room!
"I'm telling you, Hu Bingyang! If anything happens to Zhang Cheng, you'll be fully responsible!"
Hu Bingyang lowered his head and smoked, silently chanting to himself: "I won't listen, I won't listen, it's like a tortoise chanting scriptures..."
"Hu Bingyang!!!"
Seeing his defiant attitude, Zhao Daming was so angry that he raised his hand again and slammed it hard on the table.
"That's enough!" Hu Bingyang abruptly stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.
"I've already sent everyone out, what more do you want from me? I'd like to turn Zhang Cheng back for you, but I don't have that ability! You've already cursed me, why don't you have a sip of tea to soothe your throat first?"
"You, you, you..." Zhao Daming was so angry that his fingers trembled, and he couldn't utter a complete sentence for a long time.
"Never mind you, have some tea, and continue when you're done." Hu Bingyang picked up the thermos and poured him a cup of hot tea.
Just then, the door was pushed open.
Zhong Te walked in looking exhausted, with red eyes, and carrying a square wooden box in his hands.
His voice was hoarse and trembling slightly.
"Director Hu, Director Zhao... the person... the person couldn't be saved."
"He has already been cremated."
...
Lanjiang Hotel, Room 308.
Zhong Te knocked on the door.
"Who is it?! Calling me in the middle of the night!"
Zhong Yaodang's extremely impatient voice came from the room.
"Click".
The door opened a crack, and Zhong Yaodang, wearing a bathrobe and still half asleep, was about to burst into a tirade when his gaze froze.
He stared intently at the dark wooden box in Zhong Te's hand.
"This is……?"
Zhong Te raised his head, revealing a face etched with grief and exhaustion, and handed the urn in his hand forward.
"Brother Yaodang, the matter you entrusted to me..."
"It's done."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com