I Am Your Natural Enemy

Chapter 14 - 14 Rules

After chatting with Feng Yao for a while, Wen Yan got out of the car, only to see Feng Yao stomp on the gas and speed away like a bat out of hell.

Wen Yan turned and glanced toward the inpatient building. In that fleeting moment, he vaguely saw a figure in a lab coat, shrouded in black mist, standing by an open window on the top floor and staring directly at him.

But in the next second, as if it were just a hallucination, it vanished without a trace.

Wen Yan took a deep breath—what fucking hallucination!

He stuck out his middle finger and flipped it in that direction.

”What the hell are you staring at? I Am Your Dad!”

He didn’t see any more figures, but he did notice a faint wisp of black mist surge from the window’s edge, only to disappear instantly.

Wen Yan stood there for a while, calming himself, and now he could confirm two things.

At this distance, that bastard shouldn’t be able to hear him, but the taunting probably still worked.

And, even when he provoked her, the other party couldn’t even lay a finger on him. Her Power was absolutely confined to a fixed range and set of rules—now that he’d been discharged and was no longer a patient, she had zero influence on him.

When he got back to his workplace, he’d barely stepped into the gate before the doorman called out and handed him a thermal box.

”Wen Yan, wait up! The Director asked me to give this to you, told me specifically: if it gets cold, heat it up before you drink, no wasting it.”

”What is it?”

”A pot of soup.”

”Huh? Where’s the Director?”

”Director went out.”

Wen Yan took the thermal box and gave the Director a call.

”Director, thank you for the soup, I really can’t accept this...”

”Drink it while it’s hot. I’m worried you’ll keel over before you even get your first month’s paycheck.”

”Uh...”

”What ’uh’—this is Siyang Spleen Strengthening Soup, fires up your Yang Energy, drives out the cold, perfect for you. Drink it hot, it works best. That’s it, I’m busy, gotta go.”

Wen Yan hung up, confirmed it was really from the Director, and relaxed a bit.

Opening the thermal box, a bitter scent hit him in the face—just like legit herbal tea. The smell matched, the color matched, Wen Yan’s face crumpled up into a wrinkled ball.

But thinking of how effective the soup was supposed to be, and feeling that chill still lingering in his body, he pinched his nose and chugged the whole thing in one go.

The still-hot and bitter soup went down, and in no time, he felt warmth gently spreading in his belly, slowly diluting the icy cold that had been welling up from within.

After less than half an hour, he actually felt the muggy external heat again—thin beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and back; when he exhaled, visible white mist puffed out like he’d just finished a popsicle. His face, pale before, finally started to look normal again.

Feeling that steady warmth surging in his gut, Wen Yan thought, ”Damn, this soup packs a punch. Gotta ask the Director for the recipe and ingredients sometime.”

He wasn’t afraid of some of the ghosts’ tricks—for example, spirit possession.

But this Yin Qi and bone-deep cold, he really had trouble resisting. The only reason he wasn’t bedridden was that he was young and fired up, and barely managed to hold out.

If he didn’t recover fully before the next round, and had to go through this two more times, he really might not make it.

He waited a good while at the Funeral Home, poring over all sorts of hospital policies. By the time it was dark, Feng Yao pulled up in a hurry and parked right at the front gate.

”Let’s go.”

Once in the car, Wen Yan blurted out his question.

”All sorted?”

”Sorted! Minister’s new in charge and raring to go, hadn’t even got the first fire going, so I gave it a little push. Minister called in person—green lights all the way, no procedural issues at all.”

As she spoke, she handed Wen Yan a clipboard stuffed full of documents and an ID badge.

The ID badge had Wen Yan’s headshot—he was now officially a member of the Scorching Sun Department, with a badge stamped and everything.

”All the patients transferred out?”

”You wish. Do you know how many surgeries have to be done each day? How many emergency stroke and trauma cases? Unless it’s the end of the world, there’s just no way to move everyone in a single day.

And, Virtue City First Hospital wanted to expand precisely because they’re bursting at the seams—if we rerouted these patients to the already maxed-out hospitals, those places would instantly overload and implode.

Some patients simply can’t be moved; if you force the transfer, they might die on the road.

So only the ones who can be safely shifted have been moved out; the rest they temporarily relocated to the outpatient building, emergency ward, and other places.

The Department did a quick review and confirmed the plan was feasible before approving this operation. Not like we’re just winging it.”

”That’ll do.”

Wen Yan nodded. You can guard against thieves a thousand times, but you can’t be a thief for a thousand days. This was day three—if they didn’t finish off that Director today, he could well imagine that after her promotion, the rules would change and she’d have new tricks up her sleeve.

By then, who knows what ”accident” might befall him?

Even if the rules didn’t change after her promotion, there’s no way he could guarantee he’d never need a doctor or end up as a patient again.

After all the shit that happened lately, Wen Yan had a hunch he’d be seeing hospitals plenty in his life.

Just thinking of that director’s pure, undisguised malice in her eyes, he was dead certain: she had to go first.

If not, he wouldn’t ever cross the street in peace again—he’d be looking over his shoulder 24/7.

By a little past ten at night, Wen Yan clipped the badge to his chest and stood in the ground floor lobby of the inpatient building, waiting. Feng Yao was still hustling around with some regular field agents, dragging out all kinds of gear, setting up the place, doing a final check.

There were all sorts of machines, plus yellow paper talismans—a proper jumble. Wen Yan didn’t get it, so he stayed on the sidelines, watching the fun.

Close to ten-thirty, all the regular field agents withdrew. Only Feng Yao was left, holding a switch box wired up to something in one hand and a jet-black Wooden Sword in the other, looking like she was facing down the apocalypse.

Wen Yan hesitated, then couldn’t help asking:

”So, according to our plan, as long as you flip that device on, she’ll be trapped, right?”

”Yep. This is a newly approved custom instrument—cost the department eight million, legit.

It’s got remote, wired, and voice controls. Can run on direct power or the built-in high-capacity battery. It’ll last a few hours easy; only shutting it down will be a chore.

But, just parking it here gives us peak effect—and tricking her into it is still a bit of a bitch...”

”Hey, maybe let me hold the switch? I’m worried you’ll just nod off in a bit,” Wen Yan interrupted.

”...”

Feng Yao opened her mouth to say she hadn’t entered as a patient tonight, so by the rules, she shouldn’t fall asleep.

But then she remembered screwing up last night—so she kept her mouth shut, not feeling too confident now.

She also wondered why Wen Yan didn’t pass out when entering the Domain. She’d checked his file and only found the common stuff, which just meant the rest was above her clearance.

Feng Yao handed the wired remote to Wen Yan and stood quietly waiting.

At exactly ten-thirty, the main lights went out, leaving just the night lamps. In an instant, wisps of fog began to rise from the hallway on the left side of the lobby.

Wen Yan turned to check on Feng Yao, but found she had vanished on the spot.

This time, he really hadn’t fallen asleep—he never even entered!

Outside the Domain, Feng Yao’s face was grim as she waved to the others.

”Get ready to break in.”

Tonight was the last chance; she knew that after tonight, once the Domain disappeared, the Director would definitely get her promotion within the year.

Scorching flames burned ferociously, yet no matter how fiercely they roared, they couldn’t cross into the inpatient building—like an invisible wall was blocking them.

Another machine hooked up to cables was wheeled forward. Feng Yao plugged the jet-black Wooden Sword into its front end, and arcs of electricity began to dance along the blade, sizzling in the air.

The arcs built up quickly, then lashed out like a blinding whip, striking straight at the inpatient building’s gate.

With a snap and crackle, spiderweb-like lines of electricity spread, and a faint shimmering barrier appeared around the inpatient building.

”Keep going—throw everything we’ve got at it!”

In the distance, a car stopped. Instantly, a person in a Taoist Robe rushed out, leading a few people to quickly set up a Dharma Altar in front of the hospital.

...

Wen Yan exhaled sharply, pressed the remote to activate the device, tossed the remote aside, and pulled out his file-stuffed clipboard.

From the misty hallway on the left, the Director floated out, holding a clipboard in one hand, a pen in the other, her face dark as thunder.

Her head cocked slightly, those malicious eyes locked dead on Wen Yan. Her gloomy face slowly twisted into a smile that looked anything but happy. The corners of her mouth split, tearing all the way to her ears.

Her mouth moved, stretched wide in silent laughter, mocking Wen Yan for daring to come in now that he was no longer a patient.

The machines occupying the lobby generated their own Power, colliding with the Director’s. Wisps of visible black mist started to swirl around them.

Their auras mixed with the machines’ unseen force, and suddenly, the air felt much heavier.

The Director’s steps stuttered; she glanced at the machines, and then, in the distance, one by one, the cables began to snap with loud pops.

As soon as the external power failed, the machines’ internal batteries switched in seamlessly—but that oppressive force didn’t seem to bother the Director much at all.

She advanced step by step toward Wen Yan.

A furious wind howled up; chilling Yin Qi streamed outward. Wen Yan’s vision swam with hallucinations as vengeful, shrieking Fierce Ghosts clawed their way from below, circling him tightly. Cold pierced up from his soles straight to his skull.

Wen Yan ignored whatever-the-hell-these-were—hallucinations or not—and opened his clipboard, reading aloud, word for word.

”Feng Dongmei, I’m Wen Yan from the Scorching Sun Division Special Case Team. You are suspected of involvement in multiple homicides. I am hereby placing you under arrest per this warrant. Kindly cooperate.”

The Director’s crooked grin just got wider, her mouth stretching open and shut, cackling even louder inside.

Wen Yan pulled out a red-stamped document and tossed it at her, then drew out another stack, waving it at the Director and continuing to read:

”According to the collaborative investigation by the Xing State Mining Bureau Central Hospital committee and various other agencies, regarding Feng Dongmei’s serial professional violations and illegal acts, the following verdict is issued.”

Wen Yan didn’t even finish before an invisible force hurled him across the lobby, as if a ghostly hand gripped his neck, lifting him and pinning him against the glass entrance doors.

He could feel the intense Yin Qi flooding into him, but a stream of warmth from his belly surged up continually. Yang Energy rose from beneath his uniform, beating back the cold.

Every bone in his body felt like it was trapped in a vice, squeezed again and again. But it lasted just a moment—he then felt that bone-crushing Power quickly drain away.

He cracked a grin—there’s no way the Director was suddenly going soft.

With his neck still pinned, he continued to read aloud, voice strained:

”This document’s kinda long. You probably can’t be bothered reading it, so I’ll give you the highlights:

First, Feng Dongmei is officially terminated from her post at Xing State Mining Bureau Central Hospital, and all associated benefits revoked.

Second, her Deputy Director title is stripped.

Third, Feng Dongmei is permanently banned from ever working in the medical system again.

No point stopping me from reading it—you listening or not changes nothing.

It’s all signed by responsible parties and stamped by each department, perfectly legal, reasonable, and in order.

And most importantly—your opinion doesn’t matter in the slightest.

This is the rule.”