LCFM Chapter 20

The small van that had been steadily driving along the road suddenly made a U-turn on the spot, spun around, and drove toward the fork on the left.

“Complete infection. The time of losing consciousness should be anywhere from one to eight minutes. It varies depending on the wound’s location, size, amount of bleeding, and other variables.” Fu Yan glanced at his watch. “We must get to my house within five minutes.”

“One minute has already passed.” Fu Yan said as he looked at the driver.

The driver was drenched in cold sweat, stepping on the accelerator to the floor.

But helplessly, including the driver, there were thirteen men crammed into the van. Their average height was over 1.8 meters. The blond boy’s second-hand little van simply couldn’t haul that weight.

And two people were even being carried directly.

Geng Manhong was holding the sleeping Geng Bei, while Fu Yan was holding Jiang Xinghuai.

“Fu Yan…” Jiang Xinghuai called to him softly.

“What is it?” Fu Yan asked.

“My leg’s numb…” Jiang Xinghuai, uncomfortable, squeezed his head into Fu Yan’s shoulder hollow.

“Where? Thigh or calf?” Fu Yan leaned over to check.

Jiang Xinghuai wasn’t tall, 175. According to him, in his class of boys, that counted as medium to slightly short.

But Jiang Xinghuai’s legs were especially long. Curling them up like this, his knees even passed his shoulders.

“Left calf,” Jiang Xinghuai said.

“Does the wound hurt?” Fu Yan pressed his hand onto Jiang Xinghuai’s calf and only then applied a bit of pressure.

“Ah…” Jiang Xinghuai tilted his neck back and fell against the seat, unable to hold back his voice as he cried out again and again, “No, no, stop pressing.”

“Don’t move around.” Fu Yan wrapped one arm tightly around his waist, forcing him still as his other hand kneaded the numb calf. “Still numb?”

“No more, no more.” Jiang Xinghuai immediately shook his head, quickly changing the subject. “That method you mentioned, the one that might possibly work. What’s the success rate?”

The men in the van, who had been drowsy from the crowding, suddenly became alert.

“0.1%,” Fu Yan said.

Everyone froze.

This wasn’t even a gamble anymore. The stake wasn’t money, but a life.

What Fu Yan didn’t say was that even that 0.1%… half of it depended on a certain kind of luck.

The drug proportions recorded in the email Zheng Yi had sent him were from before the virus went out of control. Although it came with Zheng Yi’s speculations, they were just that, speculations.

“Even 0.001, we still have to try.” Geng Manhong smiled. “You’d better tie me up first. I’m fine right now, but later I might end up biting one of you.”

Jiang Xinghuai frowned and looked at Fu Yan.

“Tie him,” Fu Yan nodded. “My estimate of infection time was based only on a small set of data. It’s not entirely accurate.”

Five minutes later, reality proved that Fu Yan’s estimate of the infection time was correct.

Drooling, eyes bulging, Geng Manhong’s throat seemed blocked, his voice hoarse:
“This is a… a typical… application problem… let’s first look at the… the conditions he gave us…”

For the first time, Jiang Xinghuai listened so seriously to him explaining a problem, tears brimming in his eyes. Yet he still couldn’t understand.

“Earlier, when I went looking for a generator, I found a farm by the village over there. The house isn’t very sturdy, but at least it can hold people. I already told the brothers driving. They should go straight there. By now, they should have arrived. Later, Dachun, you run a trip,” Zhu Gaofei instructed. “Fu Yan’s house probably can’t take in so many people. Once we get there, half of us will move over.”

Everyone nodded.

The vehicle slowed to a stop.

“Is… this the place?” The driver stared at the huge black iron gate in disbelief.

“Yes. I’ll get down to open the gate. You drive straight in.” Fu Yan nodded and jumped out of the van.

The iron gate unlocked with a fingerprint scan. With a beep, it automatically slid open to both sides.

As the scene before them came into view, the men in the van got out one by one. Each one was stunned as soon as they stepped down.

A three-story villa, sprawling so wide that a pair of eyes couldn’t take it all in. In front of the building was even a man-made pond, with two swans floating on the water, preening their feathers.

Seeing this group of disheveled, dust-covered men barging in, the swans weren’t startled. They simply wagged their tails and swam away.

“I really underestimated you filthy rich bastards…” Zhu Gaofei clicked his tongue. “I knew pharmaceuticals made money, but this is just too much…”

“Brother Fei, I don’t want to go to the farm anymore.” Zhou Dachun’s square face looked even squarer.

“Everyone, come inside first.” Fu Yan pushed open the main door.

“Welcome home, Mr. Fu. The current time is 6:15 p.m. May I do something for you?”

“What the hell is talking?!” Jiang Xinghuai jumped in fright.

“Just… the smart voice system.” Fu Yan explained while trying the light switch. The wall lamps in the hall lit up.

“Why does your house still have electricity?!” The blond boy was stunned.

“Solar power,” Fu Yan said. “It can only power the lights. Other high-wattage appliances won’t work.”

“Is that a pool?! Inside your house! You actually have a pool inside your house!” The blond boy rushed toward the swimming pool.

“Got any wine?” Zhu Gaofei suddenly asked.

“The wine cellar’s on the second basement floor.” Fu Yan pointed. “Take the elevator down over there.”

“But you don’t drink.” Jiang Xinghuai was surprised.

“The wine cellar is my grandfather’s collection from when he was alive. After he passed away, I kept it in his stead,” Fu Yan explained.

“What’s that! A plane! A helicopter!” Jiang Xinghuai pointed in astonishment.

“Just a model,” Fu Yan said.

“Ah…” Jiang Xinghuai let out a disappointed sigh. “I thought it was—”

“If you want to see one, the real machine is on the helipad in the backyard.” Fu Yan said with a smile.

“Holy shit! Holy shit!” Jiang Xinghuai bolted toward the backyard.

At this moment, everyone was completely stunned by the possibilities wealth could create. It seemed they had all forgotten one thing.

“You guys… wait…” Geng Manhong lay stiffly on the sofa, eyes rolling back, veins crawling up across his forehead in bluish lines. “Can you save me first… I feel… I’m not doing so well right now…”

Not just “not so well”. Geng Manhong was enduring the stiffness taking over his body, while also suffering the torment in his mind.

He wanted so badly to go see the rotating bookshelf wall filled with books on the left. But after crawling twice, he found he couldn’t move anymore.

“He’s entering the stiffening stage.” Fu Yan helped him up and pressed the elevator button. “Teacher Geng, later I’ll need you to do your best to stay conscious. It may be very painful, but I hope you can hold on…”

As the elevator doors had just closed, Jiang Xinghuai, who had rushed toward the backyard earlier, slowly walked back instead. The smile on his face was gone.

He stared blankly at the tightly shut elevator doors, silent.

Zhu Gaofei sighed, raised his arm, and pulled him close. “My little baby, isn’t it hard, pretending to be happy?”

Sniffling, holding back tears, Jiang Xinghuai finally spoke after a long moment. “I don’t dare… I don’t dare to look at Old Geng… What’s wrong with me… I can’t even take one glance…”

“I know, I know. You’re just too scared. You’re just afraid of losing him.” Zhu Gaofei cut him off, rubbing his cold arm hard. “Don’t be afraid, and don’t run from it. Godfather’s here with you.”

From a little past six until a quarter past seven, everyone sat in silence in the living room, waiting anxiously. Each one was trying to seize that faintly glowing 0.1% in this desperate, exhausting state.

Even if it was only 0.1%.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened.

Jiang Xinghuai suddenly sprang up from the floor.

Fu Yan was still wearing a protective suit against infection. Just as he pulled down his mask, Jiang Xinghuai rushed over, grabbing his hand.

Fu Yan looked at him calmly. “It failed.”

Jiang Xinghuai’s breath stopped, his face instantly turning pale.

“But,” Fu Yan continued, “he’s still alive. Although he’s already lost consciousness, for now I can only maintain his basic vital signs. The stiffening process has been temporarily halted. That can barely count as good news.”

“You—I don’t love you anymore…” Jiang Xinghuai let go, slumping down onto the floor.

Fu Yan bent down, smiling as he rubbed his head. Then he turned to the others still waiting. “Everyone, go rest first. The guest rooms are on the second floor.”

Jiang Xinghuai’s limbs were weak. Once everyone had left, he simply lay flat on the ground.

Fu Yan took off the protective suit and crouched beside him. “Do you want to go see Teacher Geng?”

Jiang Xinghuai nodded.

“Then get up,” Fu Yan said.

“Can’t get up.” Jiang Xinghuai stretched out his hand.

“Your leg hurts badly?” Fu Yan frowned as he grasped his hand.

“No.” Jiang Xinghuai paused after answering, then let out a long breath. “Just too tired…”

“Then lie down for a while.” Fu Yan reached out and tapped his fingertip against Jiang Xinghuai’s nose.

“Don’t touch my nose, it’s so itchy.” Jiang Xinghuai laughed lightly, dodging away.

Fu Yan froze. He stared at his own hand. Only then did he realize he had made a gesture of intimacy that crossed the boundary he had set in his heart for this relationship.

“Better get up.” Jiang Xinghuai pushed himself to his feet. “Old Geng must be missing me.”

“Mm.” Fu Yan stood as if nothing had happened.

Inside the elevator, Jiang Xinghuai lowered his head, tugging at the hem of his clothes, not noticing Fu Yan’s moment of distraction.

Even if he had noticed, he wouldn’t have thought too deeply about it. Right now, he was busy constantly giving himself mental pep talks.

His eyes had never been good at holding back tears since he was little. But he didn’t want to cry anymore.

So he had to hold it in.

Even so, when he finally saw Old Geng lying on a bed with a ventilator, his whole body strapped down, his face twisted into something unrecognizable, he still couldn’t take it.

“Old Geng, if you taught class looking like this, no one would ever dare talk back to you.” Jiang Xinghuai forced a chuckle after speaking, but the laugh nearly came out as tears.

With Fu Yan still waiting nearby, he didn’t want to become nothing more than a crybaby in Fu Yan’s eyes.

He could only press hard on his eye sockets with his hands, hoping to block the tears.

But it was useless. Just looking at Old Geng like this made his heart ache unbearably.

“Let’s go…” Jiang Xinghuai lowered his head, forcing his tone to sound as steady as possible. “I’m hungry.”

Fu Yan frowned as he saw Jiang Xinghuai’s reddened nose and the tears slipping down his cheeks. He held himself back again and again, resisting the urge to reach out and embrace him.

“Don’t cry anymore.” Fu Yan handed him a handkerchief. “Your eyes are all swollen.”

“It’s fine, I just couldn’t hold it in. There’s not even a building here I can jump from, no way to let off steam.” Jiang Xinghuai grabbed the handkerchief and carelessly wiped his face, trying to change the subject. “What do you usually do when you’re unhappy?”

“You’re still young. An adult’s ways of coping aren’t suitable for you,” Fu Yan thought for a moment. “But aside from that, there are many methods. Exercise, even playing games—those are all options. I’ll go for a run with you later—”

“How am I still young?” Jiang Xinghuai frowned in dissatisfaction. “The day after tomorrow! The day after tomorrow, I’ll be eighteen! The day after tomorrow, I’ll be an adult. Round it up, and you and I are basically the same generation. Whatever you can do, I can do, too.”

“You really wouldn’t like it.” Fu Yan frowned.

“I definitely would.” Jiang Xinghuai nodded firmly. Just hearing the words “adult ways” already sounded so grown-up.

“All right then.” Fu Yan led him outside, turned left, and pushed open a door.

It was a narrow, dark passage, leading into a place that, at a glance, felt like an adult world.

Suppressing the nameless excitement in his heart, Jiang Xinghuai finally asked in a small voice, “Uncle, what are we going to do?”

Fu Yan didn’t answer. He simply switched on the light.

A room. Four walls. Every wall was covered in leather shoes.

“Polish my shoes,” Fu Yan said.

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