When I'm on the night shift, all the department heads can't sleep.

"It's not table salt."

Sun Zhiqiang tapped his finger to turn on speakerphone.

"Transfer the call to the person in charge on site. Don't touch that bag yet, and no one should touch it. Keep an eye on the people and the bag. Wait for the market regulators to arrive and seal it up, and the CDC will collect samples and conduct epidemiological investigations simultaneously."

A burst of static came through the speakerphone.

The awning rattled loudly in the wind, and someone yelled, "Stop eating!" The shouts mingled with the stall owner's tearful protests.

The few patients with mild symptoms who were brought in from the night market were joking with each other about who vomited more messily, but when they heard "not table salt," they all turned their heads away.

The woman collecting the money tried to stand up, supporting herself on the armrest of the chair.

"So, the bag of stuff she used to mix the vegetables today was from that bag?"

Nurse Zhao reached out and placed her hand on her shoulder, pressing her back into the chair.

"Sit still. Your lips are still purple, don't fall down again in a hurry."

The woman's hand rested on the back of the chair; she didn't move forward any further.

"Sister Guo definitely didn't do it on purpose; her child is still doing homework behind the stall."

Upon hearing the word "child," Lin Ye's expression tightened instantly, and his voice deepened: "Did the child behind the stall eat? Did Sister Guo herself eat? Where's her husband?"

The woman sniffed and frantically scrolled through WeChat.

"I don't know... She would taste it when she was busy. Her husband must have eaten it. He said it wasn't salty enough, so he mixed another bowl."

Ma Hao pushed the list to Lin Ye's side, circled the blank spaces with a pen, making it more and more messy, and even tore the paper.

"The stall owner's family, the helpers, and those taking things away—are they all crammed into this space? There aren't enough compartments."

Lin Ye glanced at it and immediately pushed the paper back.

"Don't put them all together. The stall owner's family members are one group, and those taking away are another. Write down the items that are eaten and those that are just taken away without being eaten separately."

Ma Hao said "Oh," flipped the paper over, and drew a name in the blank space with his pen.

"Okay, I'll redraw it. Let's not end up in a mess when we finally find the person."

Another shout came from the speakerphone: "Stop crowding the stall! Everyone back up!"

Sun Zhiqiang listened to the noise from the speakerphone and turned to look at the security guard.

"Contact the security department and leave a passageway at the entrance. Hand over the site to the duty officer to receive market supervision, disease control, and 120 ambulance services. The emergency room should receive patients first."

The security guard nodded, turned and ran, his keychain jingling as he ran.

The child's father sat on a small stool at the entrance of the red zone, with one hand free and his phone pressed to his ear.

No one answered the door at home.

The redial interface was still displayed on the screen. Hearing this, Nurse Zhao didn't urge him to sit further away.

The pediatrician leaned over the bed to listen to the child's breathing, while his other hand pressed on the child's shoulder to prevent him from choking if he vomited. Xiao Zheng placed the suction tube beside the pillow, his hand always hovering in mid-air, not daring to stray too far.

When the second-line emergency room doctor rushed in, his jacket zipper was still halfway stuck, and he was panting as he asked for blood gas analysis tissue.

"The one with the child."

Sun Zhiqiang handed over the paper.

After scanning the patient's vital signs, the second-line emergency room doctor glanced at the head of the bed.

"The blood pressure readings are not low, and the child's consciousness is poor. We'll continue administering oxygen, and the pediatricians will keep the airway open. We'll immediately verify the child's weight, allergy history, and feeding times. We'll also take notes on the child's history of G6PD deficiency. We'll assess the methylene blue dosage according to the emergency procedure. If the child's life is truly in danger, the senior physician will weigh the medication options at the bedside."

Upon hearing the unfamiliar name of the medicine, the child's father clenched his empty hand tightly on his knee.

"Will the medication cure it?"

The second-line emergency room doctor folded the note back, his tone showing no sign of softening.

"Whether it will get better immediately, no one can guarantee right now. Don't put all your hopes on one injection; what we need most right now is to prevent the child from getting better."

Nurse Zhao chimed in from the side.

"Keep calling home. Make sure no one touches that takeout salad. Answer the doctor's questions truthfully. Make as many calls as you can. The more calls you get through, the fewer people will get hurt outside."

The man raised his hand and wiped his face.

"I know."

At the triage desk, the first batch of adults' blood and qi began to emerge.

The nurse tore off the printing strips, placing them one on top of the other next to Sun Zhiqiang.

"This methemoglobin level is 19.8."

"This level is 22.6, which also indicates high lactic acid levels."

"Your blood pressure has dropped a little again, to 90 to 54."

Sun Zhiqiang laid the three sheets of paper out separately.

"Those with bluish lips or chest tightness should not be moved to the back. This is a 22.6 cm ECG reading."

The young man had just stuck the temporary label on his sleeve when he heard his name called and looked up.

"Should I use the medicine I just mentioned?"

Ma Hao was putting a temporary label on him when he couldn't help but say it.

"Don't worry about the medication yet, just write your name correctly. The last four digits of your ID card were wrong twice just now."

The young man looked at the label, his face even more pained.

"I feel dizzy, and the numbers look double."

Ma Hao looked at the last four digits of his ID card again.

Lin Ye had already walked over.

"When did the double image start?"

"I felt a bit chilly in the car. After getting out and getting some fresh air, I thought I felt much better."

Lin Ye glanced at his wristband, then looked at Sun Zhiqiang.

"This shouldn't be considered a mild case. Symptoms include cyanosis, chest tightness, double vision, and having eaten cold beef salad."

Sun Zhiqiang nodded.

"Move forward. Connect the ECG first, then do the blood gas analysis later, and write down the time clearly."

The calls on speakerphone hadn't stopped, and the payment records hadn't been fully processed yet.

A series of short intercom tones first sounded from the hands-free system at the triage desk.

"Photos from the scene! The white bag says it's sodium nitrite. The stall owner said it was a marinade given to him by someone else, placed next to the salt jar, and he accidentally took the wrong one when he was busy."

Sun Zhiqiang leaned closer to the speakerphone, his voice drowning out the sound of the wind on the other end.

"Forward the photos to the duty officer and the CDC. Keep an eye on the cold dishes on site and seal them off when the inspectors arrive. For those who ate or took them away, trace them one by one according to the payment records. For cash payments, ask the stall owners and neighboring stalls; whoever remembers your face, help them find you."

Someone answered the phone, followed by hurried footsteps and the short tone of the walkie-talkie.

The hands-free service wasn't working, and there was constant background noise near the triage desk.

Nurse Zhao had just picked up the thermos when she put it back down.

"We won't get to drink water again."

Ma Hao heard it and answered quietly.

"Sister Zhao, I'll pour it for you in a bit."

"Make sure you write the wristband clearly first. Don't write 'Sister Guo' instead of 'Sister Guo' later."

Ma Hao looked down at the words he had written.

"Is my handwriting alright?"

Nurse Zhao didn't even look at him.

"Your handwriting might be legible in the emergency room, but the court might not."

An auntie from the night market next door, who was so frightened that her hands were trembling, heard this and laughed for a moment, but then quickly shut her mouth.

A shout came from the other end of the phone.

"We've found the stall owner, Sister Guo! She and her husband both ate there! Their lips are turning purple, and they're getting into the car!"

Sun Zhiqiang moved closer to the hands-free speakerphone.

"Is he still able to speak normally? Does he respond when called?"

It was chaotic on the other end of the phone.

"Sister Guo can talk, but she's dizzy and has chest tightness. Her husband is unsteady on his feet and vomited once. The child didn't eat anything, saying he's been doing his homework behind the stall and hasn't touched a bite."

Sun Zhiqiang moved the speakerphone closer to himself.

"What about blood pressure and blood oxygen levels?"

"We haven't started testing on-site yet, let's get in the car first."

"Give them oxygen on the way, and connect them to monitoring if possible. Report to the hospital once before arrival. Don't let them drink water to induce vomiting. Keep an eye on the remaining food and that bag; don't let anyone touch it."

As soon as he finished speaking, his hand reached for another phone.

"The duty officer reports: there is a suspected nitrite-related poisoning incident at the Chengnan Night Market. The bag containing the substance has been found and is awaiting sealing by authorities. The stall owners, a married couple, are being transferred. We are continuing to track takeout orders. Security is coordinating with the entrance management to prevent family members from blocking the gate."

Lin Ye pushed the temporary tracking form toward Sun Zhiqiang.

The words "sodium nitrite" were just added above, but there's still a large blank space after them for people who haven't been reached.

The woman who received the money covered her mouth; before she could speak, tears streamed down her face.

"She's not a bad person, she's just too busy."

Sun Zhiqiang looked at her.

"Don't try to explain for her yet. Now help us find people to take out food. If they don't have any, stop them; if they have, come quickly."

The woman nodded and began browsing the stall owners' group chat.

Her fingers were trembling, and she accidentally clicked the wrong chat box several times.

Lin Ye didn't rush her; he waited for her to open the group chat.

Two more people pushed their way in through the door.

One of the middle-aged men waved his hand.

"I'm really fine. I just came with my wife. She ate, but I only ate a few bites."

The triage nurse glanced at him.

"Your lips are so purple, and you're still okay?"

The man was impatient.

"My face is naturally this color."

Before he could finish speaking, his hand was already pressed against his chest.

Lin Ye's gaze fell on his hands.

It's not about clutching your stomach.

It's pressed behind the sternum.

The man's wife, standing beside him, grew anxious.

"Didn't you just say you felt a tightness in your chest? Why are you saying you're fine now?"

The man glared at her.

"Don't make things worse. The other kids are all lying down, what's my discomfort compared to theirs?"

Lin Ye interrupted.

"Don't leave even if it's nothing."

The man frowned.

I only picked up one piece with my chopsticks.

"Even a single bite counts as having eaten."

The man was stumped by the question.

The wife answered first.

"He also said it tasted strange, and took another bite to taste, asking if there was too much salt in it."

Sun Zhiqiang looked up from beside the phone.

"Put a wristband on him too. Don't let anyone with chest tightness go. Connect him to the ECG first, and draw blood samples with the next batch."

The man wanted to say something more, but the hand on his chest didn't loosen its grip.

The triage nurse tore off the new wristband, and before writing her name on it, placed it next to the registration form.

The ambulance lights outside swept over again, the red light falling on the half-empty wristband.

The landline at the triage desk rang again.

Ma Hao answered the call, but after only two seconds, he stopped writing.

"Teacher Sun, the food delivery platform replied. Another order of cold beef salad has been delivered to the entrance of the community."

He gripped the receiver tighter.

The note said to leave half for the child.