It’s a strange invasion, is it okay for me to fight back?

Chapter 617 This Woman
Out of humanitarian concern, the inpatient department does not restrict the daily routines of patients with mild infection symptoms, and occasional visits between different rooms are possible.

Sometimes patients on the third floor will go to the fifth floor, or patients on the fifth floor will go down to the fourth floor. This is because when assigning wards, relatives and friends may not be assigned to the same ward or the same floor.

However, it is not common for nurses to visit other nurses' rooms.

This was the second time the poet had seen Ling Feiran on another floor.

Ling Feiran also saw the poet.

She smiled shyly and greeted him politely.

"Oh, right..." Ling Feiran took out a flute, walked over quickly, and handed it to the poet. "I thought I wouldn't be able to buy one, but I asked around on a whim, and I actually managed to buy one. It's just that the quality isn't as good as your original flute, and the material is different too..."

Ling Feiran pursed her lips and said apologetically, "I'm really sorry about last time. I don't know how to make it up to you."

The poet found the nurse in front of him strange; she was too kind-hearted.

Then he thought, maybe the other person has feelings for him? You never know, after all, he is really good-looking, so it is only natural that he would be favored by the opposite sex.

"Did you come here specifically to deliver a flute to me?" the poet asked with a half-smile. "Delivering a flute at three in the morning?"

Ling Feiran blushed, feeling embarrassed. "No, no... I originally planned to come over when it was light, but the nurse on the ninth floor wasn't feeling well tonight, so I came to fill in."

The poet asked in bewilderment, "Then why did you come here...?"

“That patient from last time…” Ling Feiran explained hesitantly, “After I went back, I checked the surveillance footage. He looked like a lizard, and I couldn’t identify which patient he was from his appearance. If he can control his appearance at will, I think he might be holding cards…”

“I don’t understand,” the poet asked with a smile, “Are you wandering here trying to find that person? Is there some special reason?”

Ling Feiran looked away, her expression awkward. "Just curious... I guess. The patients on the ninth floor were all asleep, and I didn't have anything to do tonight, so I just went downstairs for a stroll."

Then, the poet's voice rang in her ears again: "Why do you want to find that person?"

Ling Feiran felt a buzzing in her head, and a strong urge to confide suddenly welled up inside her.

She couldn't help but look up at the poet—his eyebrows were high and his eyes were deep, his features were beautiful, and although he had the appearance of a foreigner, she felt a strange sense of familiarity with him, as if he were an old friend she had known for more than ten years.

Yes, it's that feeling of old friends, wanting to talk freely.

The poet smiled faintly. "Does the hospital have a rule against admitting infected people who possess cards? Otherwise, I don't understand why you're so determined to find that person. Perhaps you're facing some difficulties. Why don't you tell me? I can offer some advice."

Ling Feiran replied absentmindedly, "I haven't encountered any difficulties. I do have some doubts... but I don't want others to think I'm meddling, so I wanted to investigate myself. Actually, I didn't intend to do anything. How should I put it, I wanted to do something, even if I couldn't, it's okay, as long as I don't cause trouble for others..." "That sounds like a very complicated emotional journey," the poet laughed. "I can see that you're very afraid of causing trouble for others. Why? If you're acting out of kindness, I think everyone will thank you."

Ling Feiran hesitated before speaking, "I think... everyone values ​​the result more. The process isn't important, and it doesn't need to be known by others. If others find out... if others find out, it will only increase everyone's workload, and everyone will be more tired than they are now. And the investigation may not even yield results. So I think it would be better if I waited until I found some clues or obtained evidence before telling everyone...?"

“You’ve thought this through very thoroughly and carefully,” the poet praised her. “The work in the inpatient department is already exhausting, and I don’t think it’s necessary to increase everyone’s workload. I can help you with the investigation. You see, I’m a patient, so it’s less likely to arouse the patients’ suspicion if I do this. Besides, I can understand the language of the Mogu country.”

"Thank you, Amir, you're so kind," Ling Feiran said sincerely.

The poet smiled and said, "From now on, we're partners. I'll help you, and you'll help me. How far has the investigation progressed? Have you found any clues?"

Ling Feiran tilted her head slightly, seemingly deep in thought. After a while, she slowly spoke: "A card holder died here, but the card disappeared without a trace. I've always found it strange. The card must have been taken by someone. Even if that place is a blind spot for surveillance, there are surveillance cameras on both sides of the corridor. Unless, the person who took the card could access the body without going through the corridor... Last time I met that patient, his face looked like a lizard. Later, I was thinking, if the card's ability allows it to walk on walls and ceilings, could it access the body without going through the corridor?"

At this point, Ling Feiran looked up at him and smiled, "So when I was taking care of the patients today, I took the time to check the windows of each ward. Guangnan has a hot and humid climate, and the wards are air-conditioned, so the windows are almost never opened. If patients frequently enter and exit through the windows, they will definitely leave traces. I have already checked all the windows on the ninth and eighth floors. As long as we continue to check, I think we should find something."

The poet's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

He controlled his facial expression and continued smiling, "You're really thoughtful..."

Ling Feiran nodded with a smile, "People around me often praise me like that too."

Influenced by her "bard's" abilities, she now speaks with Amir with great ease, as if they were old friends, her smile carrying a touch of naivety.

The poet lowered his voice and slowly began, "I have a question. If you find the person who took the card, what would you do with him? He only stole one card and didn't harm anyone. Wouldn't doing this have too many repercussions?"

Ling Feiran looked blank. "I didn't intend to do anything to him. I just wanted to find this person and ask him how that pregnant woman died..."

"A pregnant woman?" The poet stared intently at the woman before him. "Pregnant women, didn't they die in accidents? For those who possess cards, conceiving a new life is an extremely risky matter."

“I know, it was a sudden birth defect that caused the mother’s death.” Ling Feiran’s eyes gradually reddened as she said sadly, “How much pain she must have been in… So much pain, why didn’t she even make a sound before she died? I heard that when the body was found, her entire abdominal cavity was ruptured. There were nurses on duty at night, and if she had made even the slightest sound, someone would have heard it. Why did she have to hold back her cries?”

Ling Feiran cried sadly, "Amir, do you think it's possible that she was controlled and couldn't make a sound, which is why she died silently and had her cards stolen without anyone noticing?"

The poet's expression remained gentle, but his gaze gradually turned cold.

He thought to himself: This woman cannot be kept alive.

(End of this chapter)