The hospital room was lively.
Duan Qizhao had found a deck of cards somewhere and sat cross-legged on the square stool at the foot of the bed, seven or eight paper strips stuck to his face. He looked just like a blue-haired zombie plastered with talismans.
Jiang Xun sat on the edge of the bed, swinging his dangling legs with a handful of cards in his hand. The three paper strips stuck to his face did nothing to slow his mouth.
"Duan Qizhao, have you lost your mind? Who plays like that?"
"I do what I want! I've got plenty of cards, so I'll play however I like! Besides, who knows if you've still got a bomb!" Duan Qizhao guarded his last three cards, leaning backward at an awkward angle for fear Jiang Xun would crane his neck over to peek again.
"As if I need to peek at those few cards of yours. You've almost got more strips on your face than cards in your hand. The whole hospital knows you're holding a pair of fours."
Fresh from Jiang Xun's verbal assault, Duan Qizhao had nowhere to vent his indignation. He turned and flipped over the stack of cards Shen Wangjing had just laid facedown.
"Holy shit, Brother Jing, you had a bomb! Four tens! Why didn't you bomb Jiang Xun when he played?"
Shen Wangjing gathered his cards back up without a change in expression. "Forgot."
"Forgot, my ass!" Duan Qizhao slapped the foot rail in anguish. "You didn't forget. You're selectively blind! Whenever Jiang Xun plays, you never bomb him. Same thing last round, and the round before that-"
The laughter in the room stopped dead the instant the door opened.
At the sight of Jiang Huaixiao's expressionless face, Duan Qizhao's card-holding hand froze in midair. The