Chapter 19 The Whims of Fate

Lin Moyan followed the direction Yun Qingsheng was thrown, found nothing, and stared at the rapids, lost in thought.
He searched the area repeatedly, confirmed no sign of Yun Qingsheng, and sighed heavily.
When he returned, the battle was over—the military was withdrawing. Knowing the monster’s weak point made it much easier.
“Xiao Zhi, did you collect Yun Qingsheng’s blood samples?” Lin Moyan found Chen Zhi and asked.
Though they guessed, they needed confirmation—Yun Qingsheng’s physique was extraordinary; his blood might make serum.
“Yes, collected.” Chen Zhi shook plastic bags—each had a blood – stained gauze.
While cleaning, unsure which was Yun Qingsheng’s, they collected all, numbered them.
“Good. Xiao Zhi, give me the samples. Arrange teammates to go back with me. You stay to search for Yun Qingsheng and notify the salvage team to search the river.”
Lin Moyan had Chen Zhi send people back to reassure him, trusting Chen Bin to have Chen Zhi search.
“Understood.” Chen Zhi, understanding, agreed—only a few knew the truth, so splitting tasks was best.
“Ah Shui, you and others go back to headquarters with Captain Lin. I’ll handle things here.” After handing samples to Lin Moyan, he arranged people to follow.
Though injured, the situation was urgent—they saw Yun Qingsheng’s ability and knew the value of his blood.
“Yes, Captain. You few, come with me.” Ah Shui called lightly injured teammates—a one – hour drive to Binhai Airport, with medical care only on the charter plane.
“Captain Lin, let’s go.” Ah Shui spoke to Lin Moyan at the last two cars.
Lin Moyan nodded, sat in the front passenger seat.
“Ah Shui, tell me what happened.” After boarding, Lin Moyan asked—too bizarre, yet Ah Shui seemed unperturbed, meaning it happened often.
“This is a long story………” Ah Shui recalled the infected.
Type I Infected emerged in 2005, global, no secondary transmission—no disaster.
In 2012, Type II Infected (Propagators) appeared, with secondary transmission.
Initially thought larger, so two teams were sent—both annihilated. Only then did they know—transmission took minutes, even tens of seconds.
Hard to handle, but rare—only over a dozen cases.
Lin Moyan, hearing this, remembered the space’s images.
“Was that a prophecy?” He whispered.
“Captain Lin, what did you say?” Ah Shui missed it, asked.
“Nothing.” Lin Moyan stared out, distracted.
Ah Shui, seeing he didn’t want to talk, focused on driving.
……….
“Ah, it hurts………” Yun Qingsheng opened his eyes, in agony.
He looked at the clean, unfamiliar room—smelled of disinfectant.
“You’re awake. Stay still; I’ll call the doctor.” A female voice—his neck was fixed, so he only saw forward, not knowing who.
“Is this a hospital?” A bad premonition—he struggled up, bandaged, staggered to the floor, grabbed a stool, and slowly moved out.
Passing the bathroom, he took his clothes, placed them on the stool, opened the door, and left.
No nurse in sight—he headed to the fire exit, knowing he couldn’t go through the hall (staff would drag him back).
His medical report was probably submitted—someone would come. He escaped with difficulty—no going back.
In the exit, he changed clothes—conspicuous but better than hospital gown.
Hospital gown couldn’t get him out—changing took minutes, in pain, as bad as when Yun Jinxin found him.
After changing, he heard noises—probably discovered missing.
He holding on tothe handrail, slowly went downstairs—at the third floor, entered the hall, found an elevator.
Head down, acting normal, enduring pain—sweat on his nose.
In the elevator to the first floor, he saw the huge hall—thousands of square meters.
He couldn’t make it 3 – 4 hundred meters to the exit—saw the hospital name on the map.
Binhai People’s Hospital.
Yun Qingsheng froze—fell into the river, how did he drift to Binhai?
Lanshan to Binhai is over a hundred kilometers.
“Excuse me, what’s the date today?” He stopped a woman entering the inpatient department.
The woman frowned, slightly disgusted.
“Ah, sorry—too abrupt, my mistake.” He apologized, noticing her appearance.
She was around twenty, beautiful, fair skin, tall, elegant—like a wealthy heiress.
Staring, he forgot to let go.
Initially softened by the apology, she grew disgusted seeing his state.
“Sir, propriety—let go.” Her tone was polite but cold.
Yun Qingsheng, stunned, let go.
After a while, he muttered, “The whims of fate.”