Since all these rules and superstitions are outdated, what's wrong with me indulging in some me

On the morning of the third day, because the "it" on his chest was suppressed by Aokiji, Lu Changsheng did not experience any discomfort.

He got up on time, still without taking the blue pills, and after washing up, he arrived at the Jinghu Cognitive Rehabilitation Center. As he walked through the lobby on the first floor, he deliberately slowed down.

The nurse on duty at the front desk had changed—not the nurse who had shielded him from the knife yesterday, but a young, unfamiliar girl with a sweet smile.

Lu Changsheng stepped forward.

"Good morning." Lu Changsheng smiled at the receptionist. "I wanted to ask about the nurse who was injured yesterday... how is she? Is her injury serious?"

The young nurse looked up, her smile unchanged: "Are you talking about Sister Xiaoling?"

Lu Changsheng nodded. He remembered that the administrative assistant and medical staff all called that nurse "Xiao Ling".

The nurse's smile remained unchanged.

"Sister Xiaoling's injuries were too severe, and she passed away early yesterday morning despite all efforts to save her."

Lu Changsheng's blood seemed to freeze instantly.

died?

The nurse who shielded him from the knife with her body...

He just died like that?

"Is it... because of excessive blood loss?" His voice was a little dry.

That shouldn't be the case. Although the situation was indeed critical at the time, Zhang Ping's stab wasn't aimed at a vital organ, and Lu Changsheng bandaged her up and stopped the bleeding immediately. The medical staff also arrived in time.

With current technology, a person can have their heart removed and still live well, so why couldn't the nurse even last one night?

The nurse tilted her head, her smile still sweet:

"We don't know the specific reason either. But don't worry, the hospital has handled the follow-up matters properly and provided her family with sufficient compensation."

Her tone was as relaxed as if she were talking about today's weather.

Lu Changsheng stared into her eyes, trying to find a trace of sadness, anger, or even regret in those clear eyes.

There was nothing there.

Only a perfect, standard, empty smile.

"I see..." Lu Changsheng heard his own voice say, "That's such a pity."

"Yes," the nurse smiled, "have a good day."

Lu Changsheng turned and walked towards the stairs, feeling the weight under his feet with every step.

The clock on the wall points to 8:50.

Five minutes left.

7 points.

The corridor was silent.

7 points.

There were no footsteps.

8 o'clock exactly.

Zhang Ping did not appear.

Lu Changsheng frowned. Something was wrong. Although Zhang Ping was emotional yesterday, she promised to take her medication on time and that she would come today.

8 points.

8 points.

Still, no one came.

Lu Changsheng stood up and walked out of the consultation room. The corridor was empty, with only the pale light and the smell of disinfectant.

He walked up the stairs and down to the lobby on the first floor.

The receptionist nurse saw him and smiled as usual: "Dr. Lu, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Ms. Zhang Ping didn't come today," Lu Changsheng said. "Do you know why?"

The nurse blinked. "Ms. Zhang Ping? You mean that patient who has been receiving long-term treatment?"

"right."

The nurse checked the computer, then looked up with a sweet smile: "The system shows that Ms. Zhang Ping said she has recovered, canceled all appointments, and terminated treatment. Dr. Lu, you don't have any patients scheduled for today."

Lu Changsheng's pupils suddenly contracted.

Completely cured and discharged from the hospital?

Terminate treatment?

Zhang Ping, who stabbed someone and was extremely emotionally unstable yesterday, has "recovered" overnight?

"Sometimes patients recover faster than expected." The nurse seemed to notice the shock on his face, but her smile remained unchanged. "That's a good thing. It shows that you, Dr. Lu, are very capable, and that your treatment methods are very effective."

Lu Changsheng stared at her, trying to find a flaw beneath that perfect smile.

Successful cure?

Since the treatment was indeed successful, it meant that I had completed the task of helping Ms. Zhang, but the system did not provide any completion prompts.

"Give me a copy of her information and data," Lu Changsheng said. "As her attending physician, I need to confirm her recovery progress."

The nurse nodded: "Okay, please wait a moment."

The nurse typed a few words on the computer, printed out a sheet of paper, and handed it to Lu Changsheng.

"This is Ms. Zhang Ping's registered address and contact information."

The nurse had a sweet smile.

Lu Changsheng took the paper. The address was Room 502, Unit 3, No. 17 Wutong Street, East District, Jinghu City, and the phone number was a landline.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome, Dr. Lu," the nurse smiled. "I wish you a successful follow-up visit."

Lu Changsheng turned and left the lobby. He didn't return to the consultation room, but walked directly out of the sanatorium and hailed a taxi on the roadside.

"Go to No. 17 Wutong Street."

The taxi drove into the streets of Jinghu City. The city still looked peaceful and serene, with shady trees and leisurely pedestrians. But as Lu Changsheng looked out the window, he felt a deep chill.

Zhang Ping was in a state of extreme emotional breakdown yesterday and injured someone with a knife. How could she have "recovered" overnight?

And then there was the nurse, Xiaoling—her injuries weren't fatal, but she died despite all efforts to save her.

Everything about this felt eerie.

The taxi stopped downstairs at No. 17 Wutong Street. It was an old, six-story residential building with mottled exterior walls and dimly lit stairwells.

Lu Changsheng went up to the fifth floor and knocked on the door of room 502.

"Knock knock knock".

no respond.

He waited a moment, then knocked again.

"Is anyone there? I'm Dr. Lu from Jinghu Sanatorium, here to follow up with Ms. Zhang Ping."

Still, there was silence.

Lu Changsheng looked down through the crack in the door—no light was coming out. He crouched down and peered through the crack, but could only see complete darkness.

"Stop knocking, that family isn't home."

An aged voice came from behind him. Lu Changsheng turned around and saw that the door to room 501 across the hall was ajar, and an old woman with a full head of white hair was looking at him warily.

"Hello, sir." Lu Changsheng stood up, trying to keep his tone gentle. "I'm Zhang Ping's psychologist, here for a follow-up visit. Do you know where she is?"

The old lady sized him up a few times, seemingly confirming that he wasn't a bad person, before opening the door a little wider.

"She left yesterday afternoon," the old lady said. "I heard a noise and peeked through the peephole. She was dragging a large suitcase, her face was deathly pale, and she was staggering as she walked."

Is she alone?

"Yes, just her." The old lady nodded. "Oh, and there were a few people in white coats helping her carry her things. They said they were colleagues from the hospital, here to help her move."

A white coat? A colleague from the hospital?

Lu Changsheng's heart sank. People from the sanatorium had come.

"Do you know where she moved to?" he asked.

The old lady shook her head: "I don't know. She didn't say anything, she was in a hurry. Those people in white coats were also very strange, they kept urging her to leave quickly, and didn't even say hello to me."