Judge of Souls - Chapter 68

When Jiang Feng and his companions saw Mr. Ye, he was already lying on the bed, unable to move.

Last night, he had undergone another surgery.

The caregiver, seeing them arrive, got up and left on their own accord, giving them privacy.

Mr. Ye struggled to lift his head and asked weakly, “Are you really Taoist priests?”

Chu Xuanliang nodded and reached into his robes to take out his Taoist credential, but Jiang Feng stopped him.

Truthfully, from an ordinary person’s perspective, a Taoist priest pulling out a so-called Taoist certificate would seem more like someone selling fake credentials.

Jiang Feng said, “Let’s understand the situation first.”

“Ask away,” his voice sounded as if it were forcefully squeezed from his chest, accompanied by labored breathing and a low tone. “But I don’t have much money left.”

Chu Xuanliang said, “This matter threatens social order, and the Taoist Association cannot stand idly by. We’re intervening on our own initiative and won’t charge you. If you’re an uninvolved victim, you may even receive some compensation.”

Mr. Ye had probably been deceived many times before, but he still hadn’t given up hope. Hearing this, he could only respond with tears, nodding but unable to speak.

Chu Xuanliang took out a voice recorder, turned it on, and asked, “Have you been anywhere recently or encountered anything unclean?”

Mr. Ye replied, “No. It was the hospital. I became like this shortly after returning from the hospital. Don’t they say hospitals are heavy with yin energy and full of ghosts? And since this was a surgical incision, where else could it have been but a hospital? cough cough…”

“Please calm down. I just want to know the specific situation. Coincidences in this world are difficult to explain,” Chu Xuanliang continued asking, “Your abdomen – did you only undergo surgery? Besides the scar, have your internal organs shown any abnormalities?”

Mr. Ye shook his head. “No. I went to the hospital for scans, and the doctor said my physical condition was completely normal, except for the cut on my stomach, and told me to take good care of myself.”

Chu Xuanliang asked, “When you were hospitalized before, did you encounter any supernatural events? Even suspected ones would help. Or have you heard similar rumors from others?”

Mr. Ye exhaled weakly, “No.”

Chu Xuanliang nodded and took out a folded talisman, which he slipped under the pillow.

Mr. Ye took the opportunity to grab his hand, holding it tightly, and asked, “Do Taoist temples really work? How can I buy this talisman? After encountering this kind of thing, I’ve been to Taoist temples and Buddhist temples, but none of them helped.”

Chu Xuanliang lowered his gaze, scanning across his abdomen.

He couldn’t see any yin energy on the wound, which explained why visits to Taoist temples had indeed been ineffective.

With so many people in the hospital, and the fact that the ghostly thing was still following him so long after discharge, it generally meant that it had a close connection to him.

Chu Xuanliang reassured him, “You can buy talismans at Taoist temples, and I can give you my card. Also, answer my questions first, and then I can guarantee your safety, understand?”

Mr. Ye nodded.

Chu Xuanliang asked, “While you were hospitalized, did you offend any doctor, or did you notice anything unusual about any doctor?”

Mr. Ye answered almost without thinking, “That happened after I was discharged, but it must be related to him! It was Dr. Zhao from the emergency room. I heard he committed suicide.”

Chu Xuanliang asked, “When?”

Mr. Ye replied, “About a month ago? Yes! It was when I had my first abdominal surgery!”

He spoke too excitedly and choked himself. His face rapidly turned red as he coughed frantically.

Chu Xuanliang waited for him to recover before asking, “Why did he commit suicide?”

“AIDS, I think.”

Mr. Ye’s voice was now so faint it was barely audible. Chu Xuanliang leaned closer to hear him say, “He was infected by a patient during surgery, and then he killed himself. I had already been discharged, so I didn’t know, but a former fellow patient told me.”

Chu Xuanliang asked, “What was your relationship with him?”

Mr. Ye closed his eyes. “Actually, there wasn’t much of a relationship. I was hospitalized for an injury back then, and he performed my surgery. Afterward, I was transferred to another department, so we didn’t have much interaction.”

Chu Xuanliang wrote down the name and turned off the voice recorder.

Seeing that Mr. Ye wasn’t in good condition and was unwilling to cooperate further, he could only stop questioning there. They decided to visit the hospital next.

The three of them headed to City Third Hospital.

Third Hospital was A City’s renowned tertiary hospital, particularly excellent in surgery.

The lobby was bustling with people, and nurses hurried about, so busy their feet barely touched the ground.

Officer Ye took out his credentials and found a young-looking nurse to assist with the investigation.

“He committed suicide,” the nurse whispered, shielding her mouth with her hand as they cornered her near a storage room. “Dr. Zhao stabbed himself in the stomach with a surgical knife in the operating room… Isn’t seppuku a Japanese way of apologizing through death? Why would he commit suicide in the operating room? Anyway, no matter what, he was pitiful. The hospital has ordered us not to talk about this anymore.”

Chu Xuanliang held the voice recorder discreetly.

People who commit suicide generally become earth-bound spirits, unable to leave the place of death. But stabbing oneself in the stomach with a surgical knife—this cause of death seemed somewhat related to Mr. Ye’s condition.

Or it could be coincidence.

Officer Ye nodded thoughtfully, “Did he show any unusual emotions or suicidal tendencies before his death?”

“Couldn’t tell,” the nurse smiled awkwardly. “Dr. Zhao was usually quite reserved in personality, so I didn’t notice anything special. But getting this kind of disease—it’s normal to not be able to accept it. Honestly, if I got infected with HIV while treating a patient, I wouldn’t be able to stay calm either. Think about it: you can’t have children in the future, your partner will leave you, you’ll face discrimination when you go out, you won’t be able to find any job, and you’ll have to endure the pain of illness. How would you live the rest of your life? That’s a gap that no normal person could bridge.”

Officer Ye clicked his tongue a couple of times, then asked, “What kind of person was he? Was he petty, holding grudges, or something like that? Negative?”

The young nurse shook her head. “No, Dr. Zhao was a good person. Responsible, serious, highly skilled. Although he always liked to keep a stern face, I think he was a good person. At least, he was a qualified doctor. Not every doctor dares to perform surgery on AIDS patients—once you’re on that operating table, you’re gambling with your life.”

“‘But you think?’ That is to say, others don’t feel the same way?” Jiang Feng, who had been listening, interjected.

The young nurse closed her mouth, shook her head, and said, “You should ask the director. His office is at the very end of the corridor up front. I need to go take patients’ temperatures now, so I’ll be leaving.”

She hugged the files in her arms, backed away along the wall, slipped past Officer Ye, and ran into a ward.

“What’s going on here?” Officer Ye rubbed his chin. “If he committed suicide, what’s the big deal about talking about it? If this Dr. Zhao really killed himself because he couldn’t bear the burden after being infected with HIV while operating on a patient, shouldn’t the hospital show some humanity and honor him?”

Chu Xuanliang replied, “What else do you want? A posthumous title? That would scare away a bunch of young medical students.”

Officer Ye said, “Don’t be so stingy as a Taoist. Relevant departments would at least give a small flag of honor and write a small report. When someone sacrifices for the people, some recognition is necessary.”

Chu Xuanliang had to agree with him.

The three of them went to find the director the nurse had mentioned.

Following directions to the end of the corridor, this was quite easy to find. Jiang Feng paused, noting the name “Sun Yi” displayed outside the department.

Officer Ye knocked and entered first.

The person inside didn’t turn around and simply said, “Get out.”

Officer Ye said, “Police. We’re here to ask some questions.”

Sun Yi fell silent but didn’t welcome them either. He continued clicking his mouse and typing on his keyboard, appearing very busy.

All three entered and closed the door behind them.

Officer Ye took it upon himself to sit on a small round stool nearby, half of his body leaning on the desk, and asked, “How did Dr. Zhao get infected with HIV?”

Sun Yi wore glasses and had an icy expression. Hearing the question, he finally lifted his head slightly and said in a flat tone, “Surgeons, especially those in emergency rooms, frequently perform operations with knives, and injuries are very common. Generally, surgical knives are extremely sharp—they can cut through iron like mud—and wearing medical gloves is useless when you get cut. So injuries are unavoidable. Plus, all kinds of accidents can happen during surgery; if you don’t hold down a needle properly, you can be exposed. There’s nothing more to say about this.”

He picked up a form from the desk and signed it with a flourish. “Being a doctor is just that dangerous, and we can’t do anything about it—this is our job. All I can say is that he was unlucky. The most unfortunate thing is that after being a doctor his whole life, and ultimately dying at the operating table, he’s still looked down upon.”

Jiang Feng asked, “Why is he looked down upon?”

Sun Yi replied, “That’s an internal matter of our hospital.”

Officer Ye tapped his fingers rhythmically on the desk and sat quietly, not leaving.

The room was filled with the soft, rhythmic tapping sounds and the “click-click” of the mouse.

A few minutes later, Sun Yi finally stopped what he was doing and looked directly at them.

He turned his chair to face them properly and extended his hand on the desk. Officer Ye handed over his credentials.

Sun Yi examined them thoroughly to confirm, then pushed them back. He then removed his glasses and carefully wiped them clean with a cloth.

“Actually, regarding this matter, there’s really nothing worth discussing—he was just unfortunate,” Sun Yi said. “The patient had a history of HIV, which was known before the surgery. During the operation, Dr. Zhao was ‘exposed,’ but he still used relevant blocking medications within two hours.”

Officer Ye asked, “It didn’t work?”

Sun Yi said, “There’s no drug in the world that can guarantee 100% efficacy. So, as I said, he was quite unfortunate.”

Officer Ye sat in a casual posture. “Being unfortunate shouldn’t necessarily be connected to being looked down upon, right?”

Sun Yi explained, “Before this surgery, he was already involved in a rather malicious medical dispute. Dr. Zhao had indeed engaged in irregular procedures during treatment. To avoid damaging the hospital’s reputation, after group deliberation, we had decided to discipline him, but unexpectedly, he had this accident first. In the end, the hospital compensated for the related losses on his behalf.”

Officer Ye asked, “May I ask who that patient was?”

Sun Yi glanced at his credentials, “Also surnamed Ye, I believe? I’ve forgotten.”