Mo Xiaoling hadn't explained her ability to Old Madam Ma or the man. The two of them seemed to believe without needing her to say much that she really could kill them—and that if she died, they wouldn't survive either.
Though seething with resentment, the two of them took Blackie and Mo Xiaoling back to the reeking car.
The car started and headed for the nearest hospital.
After getting out, the man first asked the hospital staff for a wheelchair and pushed the two women along. The nurse accompanying them was surprised and asked how they had been injured. Naturally, they couldn't tell the truth, so they said they'd encountered a pet and been scratched.
Mo Xiaoling couldn't see, and neither could I. All I could do was listen to the hospital's noisy bustle while waiting for the two of them to be examined and treated. Mo Xiaoling no longer had the energy to care whether the doctors and nurses believed their story.
Someone pried Mo Xiaoling's eyelids open. The wounds on her eyes stung fiercely. Her eyes were open, but the world before her remained pitch-black. The doctor asked her a few questions, and Mo Xiaoling answered each time that she couldn't see.
Afterward, they treated her wounds and arranged for her to undergo other examinations.
Mo Xiaoling was separated from Blackie. Old Madam Ma pushed her along in silence, moving very slowly.
Mo Xiaoling closed her eyes and leaned back in the wheelchair, still using every second she had to address the hidden danger of the side effects.
The wheelchair jolted. They might have entered an elevator. The air around them grew stuffier, making it a little hard to breathe.
People whispered nearby, talking about visiting a patient.
The elevator stopped, and someone got out.
The elevator doors