The words cut sharply and unpleasantly.
Rong Yinghui had only passed by to do a good deed, but who would have thought it would become so complicated, giving him a buzzing headache.
People constantly walked through the hospital corridor, while the light at the resuscitation room at the end of the hallway flickered, determining life and death.
He raised his hand to stop the other person from lighting a cigarette.
"This is a hospital; you can't smoke in public places."
The man angrily shook off his hand and sneered.
"Fuck, who the hell are you to tell me what to do?"
Beside them, a family member continued to sob, and an elderly person, tears streaming, bargained vociferously.
"Five hundred thousand, no, I want a million to settle with you, or else we won't negotiate with you! Let you go to jail! My granddaughter...!"
The doctor came out of the ward to intervene.
"This is a hospital, don't make a fuss!"
"Where is the family? Come over to sign. There's been a change just now, the patient is critically ill. I'm here to inform you of the details."
In just a short encounter, the whole spectrum of human behavior was on display.
Some people around quietly lamented the karma.
The little girl injured in the car accident hadn't had anyone visit her when she was resuscitated; her family was outside arguing over the price to state forgiveness in a private settlement document.
Tang Micheng was brought back, his body wrapped in bandages, looking pitiful.
The precious Little Fatty, who had been raised in comfort, looked scared like a plump quail, afraid that there might still be something in the hospital wanting his life during the time Tang Jin described as "rich in yin energy."
"What's going on over there?"
Having clung to the boss's thigh, Tang Micheng relaxed a breath.
"They are extorting someone."
Tang Jin blinked her cat eyes and pointed at the old lady who was crying the hardest, her soft voice exposing the truth: "She wants to exchange her granddaughter's life for money to buy her grandson a house. She may have calculated well for now, but she won't have a single peaceful night's sleep in the future."
While there was plenty of low-voiced discussion around them, Tang Jin's voice was especially soft and milky, again hitting sore spots.
The old lady's face flashed with anger, and she turned around to curse viciously.
"What do you mean 'selling my granddaughter's life'?! What kind of language is that? We are the victims here, my granddaughter was hit and I'm crying my eyes out. What else do you expect me to do?! Kids nowadays are so venomous when they speak, cursing others—don't they have any upbringing?!"
"Fuck, old hag, watch your mouth!"
Tang Micheng was only timid in front of Tang Jin; his temper wasn't great either since he was spoiled, so without a second thought, he shot back a curse.
But the half-grown boy hurled an insult only to hide behind his little sister, like a quail, lacking presence.
"I always speak the truth," said the sweet and sticky Tang Jin, raising her eyes, her cat pupils pitch black. "You know very well what you are really thinking. Using blood-stained money to build a house—aren't you afraid of ghosts coming to find you at night?"
The old lady was suddenly choked with guilt and couldn't speak.
She indeed planned to take that million to build a house for her grandson, but no one else knew about it—how could Tang Jin speak so firmly as if it were true?
"That's not wrong either—at the end of the day, despite all this talk of loving the granddaughter, all she's been concerned about is that million."
"That young lady's condition is critical again. They say she's sixteen, but when she was pushed in, she looked so frail I would believe she was only twelve or thirteen."
"Then there's the passerby who did a good deed by bringing the girl to the hospital, only to be stopped from leaving, accused of causing her secondary harm when moving her, demanding compensation."
The discussing voices were piercing, like needles.
The old lady suddenly sat down on the floor, pointing at Tang Jin and wailing.
"Is there no justice left in the world?! Allowing this brat to bully a poor old hag like me!"
The wealthy second-generation culprit, already impatient, threw down a check for a million and, though his expression was shadowed, acted superior and turned to leave.
Before Steward Grandfather could act, Rong Yinghui had already stepped up protectively in front of Tang Jin, "Just speak nicely. Keep making a scene, and I'll call the police."
Seeing that he might be someone formidable, the family finally calmed down a bit. They unexpectedly accepted the million-dollar check and were influenced by Tang Jin's comment.
In the end, they reluctantly went to sign the critical illness notice for the girl involved in the accident; the rest of them dispersed quickly.
"Who is this person?" He raised his hand to tug at the collar of his hoodie, muttering irritably, "Lately, it feels like I've hit a streak of really bad luck."
Complaining about misfortune?
Within the scope of my services.
Tang Jin's Little Baldy skull gleamed brightly, his little cheeks soft and adorable, "Big Brother, our meeting must be destiny. Have you been having bad luck recently, where everything goes wrong? Why not let Jinjin cast a fortune for you? It only costs this much."
The master couldn't hold onto money, and the Sanqing Taoist Temple had always been the poorest among the Taoist sects—if buildings were raised, they would collapse; if chickens were bred, they would run away. Only by the charitable donations of those willing to draw their swords in aid could the temple survive for a while.
As the main pillar of the family, I needed to earn money to support us. I wasn't as famous in Shendu as I was back on Mount Sanqing.
In Shendu, there were still a family and children to support, so I needed a big client to get my business going.
The one right in front of me seemed very suitable to start with.
The little girl's eyes shone brightly, her soft little face displayed a restrained sales pitch.
Come on, come on, have a try!
"Huh?"
Rong Yinghui had indeed not expected such words to come from a little girl who appeared to be only about four or five years old.
Which family indoctrinated this child with such feudal superstitious ideas?
And this 'Little Light Bulb' sparkling before him, Rong Yinghui couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and disbelief.
Perhaps it was because she was so adorable, even her deceitful words sounded so sweet and endearing, her soft voice extremely charming.
"Is the next line about me facing a blood disaster? Kids shouldn't watch those strange TV shows."
As he spoke, he glanced over at Steward Grandfather disapprovingly.
Tang Jin, after all, had come back from the Taoist temple, so the old steward didn't react much, just thought that his young miss was adorably cute, someone to be cherished.
However, Tang Micheng was not pleased when he heard this.
His sister had real skills! She didn't deceive people!
And Tang Jin gently tugged at his hand, shaking her little head.
Speaking of serious matters, Little Bun was earnest and sincere, her pitch-black eyes like those of a clean kitten.
"Jinjin will give you a free piece of advice then. Tonight, when you leave the hospital, remember to take the main road, don't be tempted to save those two minutes."
"Yeah, sure," Rong Yinghui didn't take it to heart, looking at Tang Jin's little face, he couldn't resist softly poking her cheek.
The Little One didn't shy away from strangers and even tilted her small head, "If you want to find me again, just come to Canglang Ancient Courtyard Community, and lastly—do good deeds, don't ask about the future."
***
Walking on the main road, Rong Yinghui still thought about the place Tang Jin had mentioned, a well-known gathering spot for wealthy families in Shendu.
He wondered which wealthy family it was that had taught the child such things.
Around the corner, a bicycle came riding by, the wheels slipped, and the rider fell to the ground with a loud crash that gave him a start. He hurried over to help.
His cell phone fell out of his pocket as he bent down, and the screen protector shattered with a crack.
After refusing the cyclist's offer of compensation for a new screen protector, Rong Yinghui arrived at the agreed-upon location and couldn't help but curse under his breath: "So much for changing my luck. I really seem to encounter all sorts of misfortunes."
It's like good people never get rewarded.
The night deepened, tree shadows swayed, and moonlight was obscured.
In the profound darkness, the lights from the surrounding shops appeared brighter. Not far away, about fifty meters or so, there was a small store offering screen protector services.
The person he was supposed to meet hadn't arrived yet. Looking at his unfortunate phone screen, he started walking towards the shop.
He had only walked ten meters.
A sudden gust of wind rushed in, almost as if it wanted to scalp him.
"Boom—"