Last Bus, Bus 330

The sudden appearance of an early bus caught even me by surprise.

As soon as the bus stopped, the front doors opened.

Then I saw the driver gripping the steering wheel, craning his neck out as he spoke to me.

"Kid, what happened?"

Seeing the driver ask, I hurriedly replied,

"Sir, my uncle is hurt. He needs to get to the hospital right away."

The driver did not hesitate after hearing that.

"Get on! I'll take you there."

Hearing that, I was overwhelmed with excitement. There really were more good people in the world!

The driver then spoke to the passengers inside the bus.

"Everyone, there's an injured patient who urgently needs to get to the hospital, so the planned route will be changed.

"If anyone is in a hurry,

"you can get off early and take another form of transportation.

"Please bear with us."

The passengers said nothing, and no one got off. The bus was rather quiet.

Seeing that no one was getting off and no one responded,

the driver continued,

"Then we're on our way."

With a click, the doors closed.

But the moment I got on, my heart skipped a beat.

Just now, the bus driver had said, "We're on our way"?

What driver would normally say that?

They would say, "Let's go."

"We're on our way" was something said about the dead. What living person used those words?

Startled, I swept my gaze across the bus.

I found that the inside of the bus was damp, like the floor had just been washed.

Moreover, the bus itself looked very old.

It seemed like the kind of old bus I had ridden when I was a child.

There were passengers of all ages and genders inside.

There was a woman holding an infant and nursing it.

There were elderly people carrying vegetables, salespeople or office workers with briefcases, and students with backpacks.

But none of them looked healthy.

Their faces were deathly pale, including the nursing infant. They all looked nearly the same.

The same complexion as Zhang Qiang, who had been haunting me.

They did not look at us either, each occupied with their own business.

By then, my heart had gone ice-cold.

It was around four or five in the morning.

It was far too early.

Yet people from so many different professions had gathered in one place. Something felt very wrong.

Combined with the model of this bus, there was an eighty percent chance that I had boarded a ghost bus.

Seriously, when you were unlucky, even drinking water could get stuck in your teeth.

I was frightened, but I made no other move.

Because the bus was indeed heading toward the hospital.

Uncle Yu's condition was not optimistic. He had to get to the hospital for treatment as quickly as possible.

Even if I knew I was on a ghost bus,

as long as it could get us to the hospital, I would accept it.

If something went wrong along the way, I could only fight them.

I set Uncle Yu down in an empty seat, one hand resting on the Dragon-Head Cleaver.

Then I muttered quietly to Uncle Yu,

"Uncle Yu, I think we got on the wrong bus!"

If I could see the problem, Uncle Yu definitely could too.

He was simply too weak to show it.

Now, hearing me say that, he smiled at me.

"If it's a blessing or a curse, you can't escape a curse."

I gave a quiet "Mm," helping Uncle Yu press down on his wound to stop the bleeding while remaining alert to our surroundings and the bus route.

The bus was quiet, with almost no other sounds.

There was nothing unusual about the route either.

We even hit green lights all the way and never stopped once.

After around twelve or thirteen nerve-racking minutes, the bus stopped.

Not far ahead was Shancheng Third People's Hospital.

With a click, the doors opened.

The driver turned his head toward me and said,

"Kid, we're here. Hurry and go!"

I froze for a moment.

The driver's face was pale as well, but he looked utterly earnest.

I was deeply moved.

When we left, no living person had helped us. In the end, it was the dead who did.

I nodded and helped Uncle Yu off the bus.

Once I had truly gotten off and felt solid ground beneath my feet,

I shouted at the driver,

"Sir, what's your name? I'll bring your fare to you later."

But the driver merely waved his hand at me.

"No need."

With that, he closed the doors and drove away.

Only then did I realize this was not bad luck. It was good luck.

I glanced at the license plate and bus route.

330 Bus Line, JK7231.

The bus turned a corner ahead and disappeared from sight.

I silently memorized it. Later, I had to burn some paper money for the driver on that route.

At last, I carried Uncle Yu on my back and ran toward the hospital.

Uncle Yu weakly spoke at that moment.

"I'd heard about this ghost bus long ago, but this is my first time riding it. It feels pretty good."

I could not laugh at Uncle Yu's teasing.

Carrying him on my back, I hurried to the hospital entrance.

I called out for a doctor inside a couple of times...

Before long, a doctor came.

Uncle Yu was an emergency patient, so he was wheeled straight into the operating room.

As for me, I registered and paid the fees according to hospital procedure.

I had no money, so I could only use my credit card and put down a ten-thousand-yuan advance.

But I did not feel the least bit bad about it.

Without Uncle Yu, I would have fucking died outside long ago.

I only had some superficial injuries. They were no big deal, and I did not take them seriously.

Nor did I have extra money to get myself treated.

I planned to wait until Uncle Yu was doing better, then buy some gauze and iodine at a pharmacy outside and tend to myself.

The bruises all over me drew plenty of sidelong glances, but I ignored them all.

Fortunately, heaven was watching over us. Although Uncle Yu had a laceration on his neck, he had been brought to the hospital in time.

After the bleeding was stopped, the wound dressed, and the transfusion completed, Uncle Yu's condition finally stabilized.

At that moment, I was bare-chested, keeping watch beside Uncle Yu as I waited for the anesthesia to wear off and for him to wake up.

An old man in the neighboring bed with a broken leg

saw that I was shirtless and covered in bruises, so he kindly gave me an old shirt to wear.

Since neither of us had eaten all night, I was afraid Uncle Yu might want something to eat once the anesthesia wore off.

So I prepared to go downstairs and buy some food.

But when I stepped outside, I ran into Teacher Li from our neurology department.

He recognized me too.

He asked why I had not attended his class yesterday.

He asked whether the deaths of Zhang Qiang and Teacher Chen Guofu had hit me too hard.

He also said that he knew Zhang Qiang and I had been roommates and were close.

Teacher Chen had thought highly of me as well. Their deaths had both been accidents.

He told me I needed to adjust my mindset, put my studies first,

and become a good doctor once I entered the profession.

I could not explain my suffering. That Drowned Ghost Zhang Qiang

had certainly dealt me a heavy blow. He had nearly gotten me killed and caused Uncle Yu to end up lying in a hospital room.

But when I heard that Teacher Chen Guofu had died too, my heart trembled slightly.

Because Teacher Chen Guofu was our Dissection Teacher.

During that dissection class, he had been the one who told me to perform the primary dissection on Xiao Yu.

He was dead too?

I was surprised, but I also sensed something unusual.

Because whenever that Drowned Ghost Zhang Qiang came, he always said the teacher was urging him.

Could the teacher urging him have been Dissection Teacher Chen Guofu?

I wondered if the two might be connected somehow.

So I asked how Teacher Chen Guofu had died.

Teacher Li was quite surprised and said he could not believe I did not know.

Then he told me that our Dissection Teacher, Chen Guofu, had drowned as well.

But he had not drowned in the school lake. He had drowned in the Corpse Storage Pool.

Teacher Li then asked why I had come to the hospital.

Naturally, I could not tell him the truth.

I only said that a relative had run into some trouble, so I had not gone back to class these past two days.

Since Teacher Li had to go see patients, he did not say much else.

He patted me on the shoulder, told me to adjust my mindset, and return to school for class soon...

But I stood there with a grim expression.

Teacher Chen from dissection class and my roommate Zhang Qiang had both died.

Their deaths had to be related to Xiao Yu's corpse.

But Xiao Yu had never harmed me.

I even suspected that Xiao Yu might have helped us last night.

Because I had smelled formalin before hearing the rooster crow.

But after they died, why were they so determined to haunt me?