Chapter 180: How Long Was I Unconscious?
By the next morning, Jingwei had moved the practice session into the small workroom beside the garage.
He closed the door to keep their voices from carrying toward the medical room, then cleared a space on the bench between Zeyu’s tools and a stack of unopened parts.
Zeyu arrived carrying two cups of coffee as Shichen followed with the tablet he had used during his watch, placing it where all three of them could see the exterior cameras.
"The road is still clear," Shichen reported. "Qinghe has the alerts while we’re in here."
Jingwei nodded and accepted his coffee. Through the workroom window, the mobile base filled most of the garage beyond, its damaged exterior visible beneath the ceiling lights.
Zeyu glanced toward it before pulling out a stool.
"Before we start," Jingwei told them, setting his cup aside, "tell me what you already know."
Zeyu looked at the unloaded weapons arranged on the bench. "Enough to make yesterday embarrassing," he replied.
"That isn’t exactly useful information," Jingwei pointed out. "I need to know what we’re practicing."
Shichen answered first, describing his limited experience without attempting to make it sound better.
Zeyu followed, and Jingwei listened while sorting through what they needed to revisit. Neither was entirely unfamiliar with firearms.
Both had handled them under circumstances where someone else controlled what happened next.
Yesterday, that person had been Hanchuan.
They began quietly. Jingwei watched their movements, stopping them when familiarity turned into carelessness and making them repeat what they rushed. Zeyu accepted the first correction with a nod. By the fourth, his mouth had tightened.
"I did it properly last time," Zeyu protested, lowering the practice weapon onto the bench.
"You did," Jingwei agreed. "Then you stopped paying attention."
Zeyu looked toward the garage window, where the mobile base’s reflection overlapped his own. After a moment, he brought his attention back and began again without arguing.
Shichen worked more slowly, pausing to ask questions whenever he wasn’t certain. Jingwei preferred that to watching him pretend, although his friend’s determination to understand everything before proceeding would need its own kind of practice.
The room smelled of coffee and the faint oiliness that clung to Zeyu’s tools. Outside their closed door, nothing moved except the changing images on the tablet. Jingwei checked those between corrections, unable to leave the entrance entirely to someone else even for an hour.
Eventually, Zeyu noticed.
"Were you doing that yesterday?" Zeyu asked, following his glance toward the screen. "Watching everything at once?"
"I was trying," Jingwei replied.
Zeyu rested his hands against the bench. "You looked like you knew what you were doing."
Jingwei considered letting the compliment stand. It would have been easier to teach them if they believed he had nothing left to learn, but he could still remember crouching beneath the counter while bullets struck the observation window.
"I stopped watching the other soldiers after Hanchuan fired," Jingwei admitted. "I was looking at him."
Shichen raised his head. Zeyu remained still beside the bench, the frustration from his own mistakes disappearing.
"Hanchuan told me to watch them," Jingwei continued. "I knew why he told me. I still looked away."
The admission left him feeling unpleasantly exposed. He reached for his coffee, discovered it had gone cold, and put it down without drinking.
"Then why are you teaching us?" Zeyu asked. His tone held no challenge, only the directness Jingwei had demanded from them.
"Because I know more than you do," Jingwei replied. "That doesn’t mean I know everything. When Hanchuan has slept, I’m going to ask him to work with us."
Shichen nodded and returned his attention to the bench. Zeyu took longer, apparently adjusting to the idea that the person correcting him could have been frightened too.
They continued until Jingwei noticed both men repeating mistakes they had already corrected. He ended the session before stubbornness could make it pointless, then helped put everything away.
"What about tomorrow?" Shichen asked, lifting the tablet.
"We practice again," Jingwei replied. "Today, we still have a damaged entrance."
Zeyu looked through the window toward the mobile base. "And that," he added, although his voice lacked the eagerness it once carried when he spoke about the vehicle.
Jingwei followed his gaze. "We’ll work through it," he assured him. "After breakfast."
Zeyu’s expression shifted at the familiar instruction. He collected the cups while Shichen returned to the communications wall, and Jingwei walked toward the medical room to let Qinghe know the session had finished.
He found Hanchuan asleep on the narrow bed they had brought in the night before. His friend lay on his side facing Zhiyi, one arm bent beneath the pillow. Even asleep, the crease between his eyebrows remained.
Qinghe met Jingwei near the doorway.
"She’s awake again," Qinghe whispered. "Keep it brief. She tires quickly."
Jingwei approached the bed from the opposite side, careful not to disturb Hanchuan. Zhiyi watched him come closer, her eyes clearer than they had been during his first visit, although she still took time before speaking.
"You were busy," Zhiyi observed.
"Practicing with Zeyu and Shichen," Jingwei replied. He pulled the spare chair closer rather than making her look up at him. "They want to be more comfortable with the weapons."
Her attention shifted toward Hanchuan’s sleeping form. Jingwei could see her trying to connect the answer to something she knew, and he waited while Qinghe moved quietly at the counter.
"Why now?" Zhiyi asked.
Jingwei rested his hands on his knees. He could tell her they had time or that practice was overdue, but she had asked a straightforward question. He disliked the thought of making her work through an incomplete answer while she was struggling with everything else.
"Something happened while you were unconscious," Jingwei replied. "We handled it, but we need to be better prepared."
Zhiyi looked toward the doorway, then back at him. Her fingers moved against the blanket before settling.
"How long was I unconscious?" Zhiyi asked.
Qinghe turned from the counter at the question. Beside them, Hanchuan stirred, opening his eyes when he heard her voice.
Jingwei stayed in the chair as his friend sat up.
Zhiyi was watching them now with a concentration he recognized, waiting for someone to account for the part of her life she couldn’t remember.