A real killer playing a villain; the guy surnamed Zhen in Detective, run!

VIP ward of orthopedics at the Municipal Central People's Hospital.

Zhao Xiujie had a half-centimeter-thick brace wrapped around his chest, and two oxygen tubes in his nose were emitting faint mist. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

Agent Li stood at the foot of the bed, her phone tucked between her shoulder and ear, handling three things at the same time.

"Let's raise the budget for trending topics to 500,000. I'll name the title: 'Zhao Xiujie breaks his rib and is sent to the hospital while filming in the rain; his dedication moves the whole crew.' Yes, take two frames from the scene where he's being carried out of the pit, find a good angle, and don't film his snot."

The chubby assistant squatted at the door, clutching a cup of ice-cold soy milk, neither daring to go in nor back out.

"Brother Jie, um..." he tentatively began, "Director Su asked about your recovery time—"

"He wanted to kill me."

The chubby assistant shut up.

Sister Li pressed the phone's microphone and turned her head: "Xiujie, listen to me. Two ribs, four to six weeks. During this time, we can release press releases, make fans feel sorry for you, boost your public image, and then you can come back and continue filming. Nothing will be delayed."

"He pressed my head down underwater."

"You choked on water for almost twenty seconds; it's perfectly normal to hallucinate under conditions of oxygen deprivation. I spoke with the head of neurology; near-death experiences can lead to—"

"It wasn't a hallucination." Zhao Xiujie's voice had a rough, gritty quality. "When he pinched my ribs, his thumb was rotating as he pressed."

Sister Li and her chubby assistant exchanged a glance.

There was a knock on the door twice.

Lu Yuan stood at the door.

In his left hand he carried a bamboo fruit basket, the kind that costs 9.9 yuan. The bamboo strips were roughly tied together, and seven or eight oranges were crammed inside, some green and some yellow.

He had a forced smile on his face.

When closing the door, he gripped the door frame on the latch side with his right hand, his fingertips wedging the metal tongue so that the lock cylinder would close with only a very soft "click".

"Teacher Zhao, I've come to see you."

Sister Li's gaze swept over Lu Yuan. He was wearing sweatpants, canvas shoes, and a stray orange cat hair was stuck to the zipper pull of his windbreaker.

"You're Lu Yuan?"

"Yes, hello Sister Li."

Sister Li stood up, placed the tablet on the sofa armrest, and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"You've come just in time. I was just about to have a chat with you."

Lu Yuan placed the fruit basket on the bedside table. The oranges rolled over and were blocked by the base of the vase.

"I won't go into detail about the safety measures your crew took yesterday. Zhao Xiujie suffered two broken ribs and a foreign object lodged in his trachea. He is currently under observation for any secondary lung infection."

Sister Li tapped her forearm twice with her fingernails.

"This injury means I can't film for at least six to eight weeks. Do you know how much that adds up to—the breach of contract penalty, lost wages, compensation for delayed business collaborations, and penalties from the brands?"

Lu Yuan shrank his neck.

"The insurance covers part of it, but not enough." Sister Li's voice rose another half-note. "As the person closest to him at the time, you failed to pull him out of the water in time, causing secondary injury. How is that liability calculated?"

Lu Yuan opened his mouth slightly, but nothing came out.

"Let me be frank, Lu Yuan. You're a complete newcomer who just joined the scene, with no background, no resources, and no team. You should know what it means to offend Zhao Xiujie in this industry."

Lu Yuan bent down.

"Sister Li, I'm so sorry. The bottom of the pit was so slippery, I used so much effort—"

That's enough.

Sister Li wanted to continue scolding him, but seeing that Lu Yuan followed the lead and eventually pulled over a low plastic stool from the bedside to sit down, she gave up.

Looking at Zhao Xiujie, Lu Yuan picked up an orange from the fruit basket.

"Teacher Zhao, would you like an orange? I just bought it near the hospital."

The thumbnail dug into the tip of the orange peel.

*Plop*, the fruit peel burst open, and juice spurted out, a drop splashing onto his hand.

The orange peel was torn off, and Lu Yuan's fingertips traced the curved surface of the flesh, slowly peeling away the adhesion between the peel and the flesh.

Zhao Xiujie had been staring at the ceiling when he caught a glimpse of that hand out of the corner of his eye.

The five fingers are closed, the fingertips are pressed inward, and the coordination between the thumb and index finger is precise.

Zhao Xiujie's eyes suddenly turned to the side.

That hand, underwater, with the same five fingers, slipped under the armpit, the fingertips touching the broken ends of the seventh and eighth ribs, the thumb pressing down with a rotation—

The cardiac monitor by the bedside exploded.

The green waveform on the screen started going crazy, the intervals between peaks shortening dramatically. The heart rate numbers shot up. Ninety. One hundred. One hundred and onety-four.

Sister Li turned around: "Xiu Jie? What happened to Xiu Jie?"

The chubby assistant ran to the bedside to press the call button.

Zhao Xiujie gripped the bedsheet tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric. His breathing was short and rapid, and the brace on his chest creaked with each violent rise and fall of his chest.

He wanted to shout. But he couldn't. His throat felt like it was blocked by something.

Lu Yuan handed the cleaned orange segments to Zhao Xiujie.

"Teacher Zhao, life is a slippery road. When you're standing on the edge of a pit, you must keep your footing steady."

Zhao Xiujie's eyes finally turned around.

The two looked at each other, and Lu Yuan's eyes were filled with compassion for humanity.

Zhao Xiujie did not reach out.

An orange segment was held between the two people, juice dripping from between their fingers and falling onto the white sheet, leaving a small, dark yellow dot.

Lu Yuan waited two seconds. He withdrew his hand and put the orange segment into his mouth.

He chewed on an orange, moved closer to Zhao Xiujie, and spoke in a voice that only the two of them could hear.

"Otherwise, you might not be so lucky next time."

Zhao Xiujie's pupils shrank to their physiological limit.

All rationality shattered in that instant.

His right arm swung out, overturning the fruit basket. Oranges fell to the ground, two bouncing into the corner. The bamboo basket rolled halfway upside down, the bamboo strips scraping against the floor tiles with a piercing screech.

"Get him out!!!"

His chest, constricted by the brace, heaved violently, and the pain from his broken ribs turned his howls into groans.

"Get him out of here—!!"

He struggled on the bed, wildly swinging his arm that was pulling on the IV tube. The oxygen tube was pulled out of his nasal cavity, and the tube opening slammed onto the pillow, hissing and emitting steam.

Sister Li took two steps back and her back hit the wall. Ten seconds ago, this person was perfectly fine, but now he's acting like a madman.

The chubby assistant stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth agape.

"Nurse! Nurse!" Sister Li shouted at the door.

Lu Yuan sprang up from the low stool, frantically taking two steps back. He pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket and hurriedly wiped the juice off his fingers. He almost slipped on a rolled-down orange.

"Teacher Zhao—Teacher Zhao, please don't get agitated—"

Zhao Xiujie's voice was completely ruined; the sounds he managed to squeeze out were like a dull knife sawing through sheet metal. "Don't let him near me... don't let him near me..."

Two nurses burst through the door. One pressed on Zhao Xiujie's shoulder, while the other reinserted the oxygen tube. He desperately tried to turn his head away, like a snake pinned down.

Lu Yuan retreated to the doorway.

He turned his head and looked at Sister Li, his expression shifting from fear to worry.

"Sister Li, Teacher Zhao is probably still in shock from the near-drowning and hasn't quite recovered yet."

He crumpled the tissue in his hand into a ball and put it back in his pocket.

"Please take good care of him. The entire crew is hoping for his speedy recovery."

He nodded, turned, and left. The door closed gently, the latch clicking as softly as when he came in.

The footsteps in the corridor faded away.