Chapter 169: They’re Opening It
Zeyu flinched when the shot cracked through the speakers.
He hated that he had done it.
The soldier was outside, the bullet had struck a camera, and there were walls between them. But none of that stopped his shoulders from tightening as though the rifle had been pointed at him.
The black rectangle on the communications wall reflected the room behind them.
For a moment, he could see all four of them staring at it.
Then Jingwei leaned over the controls.
"That was the gate camera," Jingwei announced, replacing the dead image with a wider view of the approach. "We still have the road."
The vehicles reappeared from a different angle. Zeyu could see their roofs, the medical transport, and a soldier standing beside an open door. The gate itself sat beyond the edge of the picture.
Captain Du had disappeared with it.
"So we can watch them park, but we can’t see what they’re doing to the entrance," Zeyu muttered, leaning forward in his chair. "That’s comforting."
Jingwei didn’t look at him. His fingers continued moving across the controls, bringing smaller feeds onto the wall.
"The interior cameras still work," Jingwei replied. "If they get through the outer gate, we’ll see them."
Zeyu glanced toward Hanchuan, expecting him to demand something else.
Instead, his friend stood beside Shichen with his rifle against his chest, watching the surviving images.
He hadn’t flinched at the shot.
And that bothered Zeyu more than it should have.
Hanchuan had always been difficult to frighten, but there was a difference between refusing to show fear and apparently having no use for it.
"Call Qinghe," Hanchuan instructed, turning toward Zeyu. "Tell him the shot was outside."
Zeyu reached for his phone. His thumb slipped against the screen, and he wiped it on his trousers before trying again.
Qinghe answered immediately.
"Who’s hurt?" Qinghe asked, the quiet urgency in his voice making Zeyu sit straighter.
"Nobody in here," Zeyu replied. He looked at the useless black camera tile. "They shot out a camera. Hanchuan wanted you to know."
He heard Qinghe exhale. Behind the doctor, the medical room remained quiet enough for Zeyu to imagine Zhiyi lying exactly where he had left her.
"Keep telling me what’s happening," Qinghe requested. "I can’t leave her to find out."
"I’ll bring you a tablet," Zeyu promised, rising from his chair. It was something he could do without wondering whether he would make everything worse. "You can watch from there."
Jingwei passed him a spare from beside the controls. Zeyu tucked it beneath his arm and left, carrying the rifle awkwardly in his other hand.
The corridor felt colder than the main room. Cool air brushed the sweat at the back of his neck, and the quiet made the shot return to him with unpleasant clarity.
He stopped outside the medical room long enough to shift the rifle away from the doorway.
Qinghe had moved his chair closer to Zhiyi.
A folded cloth lay beside the basin on the counter, and the room smelled faintly of disinfectant. Everything looked painfully familiar, right down to Hanchuan’s empty chair beside the bed.
Zeyu set the tablet where Qinghe could see it without turning away from her.
"They’re still outside," Zeyu explained, opening the feed. "Jingwei’s watching the entrances."
Qinghe glanced at the screen, then at the weapon in Zeyu’s hand.
"Put that somewhere you won’t knock it against her bed," Qinghe instructed gently.
Zeyu stepped back at once. Heat climbed into his face, although Qinghe had already returned his attention to Zhiyi.
She lay with one hand resting on the blanket. Zeyu remembered Hanchuan placing it there before leaving and wondered how long she would remain exactly as someone else had arranged her.
He had built her something she could hold. It was sitting on his desk while men arrived with a stretcher, apparently convinced they had a better claim to her than anyone inside.
"Do they have anything you need?" Zeyu asked, looking toward Qinghe. "The medical team outside?"
Qinghe studied him before answering.
"I don’t know what they brought," Qinghe replied. "But nothing I’ve seen justifies moving her because someone wants her somewhere else."
Zeyu nodded. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed someone to explain that without sounding angry.
On the tablet, a soldier closed the rear doors of the medical transport. Another man climbed into a truck, and its lights came on.
Zeyu leaned closer, hope arriving before he could stop it. He called Jingwei and watched the truck move while waiting for him to answer.
""Are they leaving?" Zeyu asked when the call connected.
"No," Jingwei replied sharply. "Come back."
Zeyu looked at Qinghe. The doctor had seen the movement too, and his hand settled over Zhiyi’s before he nodded toward the door.
"Go," Qinghe urged. "I’ll stay with her."
When Zeyu returned to the main room, Hanchuan held his phone against his ear. Shichen stood beside the desk, following the truck across the road camera’s image.
The vehicle reversed until it disappeared toward the gate. Two soldiers walked after it, dragging something heavy between them.
"They’re changing equipment," Jingwei explained, glancing at Zeyu. "And moving the medical transport away."
Hanchuan lowered his phone.
"That guy Zhao isn’t taking the call," Hanchuan informed them. His face gave Zeyu no indication of whether that surprised him.
A heavy metallic impact sounded faintly through the building. Zeyu turned toward the corridor, his fingers tightening around his rifle.
"They’re at the outer gate again," Shichen confirmed. He looked toward the interior feed, where the empty passage remained brightly lit.
The next sound lasted longer. Something scraped, stopped, then struck hard enough to carry through the walls.
Zeyu moved beside Jingwei. On the interior camera, dust drifted from the upper edge of the outer gate. The metal shifted slightly, then held.
For several seconds, Zeyu watched that narrow seam without blinking. Then a strip of daylight appeared where the gate had met the frame.
"Hanchuan," Zeyu called, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. "They’re opening it."