The Bitter Fruit (42)
"Who are you—"
In no time, under the bright sky, Fu Qian shoved open the clinic door, which had been left wide open.
Dorian, whose head had indeed remained firmly attached to his neck, looked over in shock at once.
But Fu Qian clearly didn't need to say anything. The moment Dorian saw what he was carrying, he instinctively bit back the rest of his words.
"What do you want?"
Faced with this blood-soaked, mad visitor, his survival instinct made him surrender the initiative immediately.
"Outsider. I'm here for treatment."
To his surprise, the other man was quite amiable, answering both questions in one go.
"These are the payment."
Fu Qian set down all three Xilaliyas and handed over the treatment fee before Dorian could say anything.
"Go prepare. I'll wait here."
He casually placed Dorian's head off to one side, even adjusting its position so it could gaze lovingly at them, as a way of keeping him on task.
"Make every preparation you can. I want the best medical care."
By the time Doctor Dorian returned, it was completely dark.
Of course, he hadn't been deliberately stalling. There was no clock in the clinic, but Fu Qian was quite sure he'd been gone for less than half an hour.
The main issue was that the day-night cycle in this place made no sense. It had gone from day to night in the blink of an eye, not long after Fu Qian arrived.
Of course, Fu Qian believed it was only human nature if Dorian had spent a little of that half hour hesitating over what to do next.
But it was obvious that the head still sitting on the table had ultimately put an end to any thoughts of escaping under cover of darkness.