Chapter 164
What does it feel like to almost be beaten until your skin and flesh are separated by just one twist?
Mike initially didn't feel any pain, but when Little Lang choked him and he lay motionless on the ground, the pain rapidly spread from the tips of his fingers to his entire arm, and then throughout his body. It was a pain akin to being skinned alive.
Mike still wanted to struggle, but this time, Little Lang didn't show any mercy. He slapped Mike hard on the temple, knocking him unconscious, and then carried him back to the room.
After placing Mike on the bed, Little Lang sat across from him and took out a copy of "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" from his bosom (presumably his pocket or bag), and began to read.
That's how efficient Chinese special forces are.
Normally, Uncle Maliye should have been allowed to leave since he came from the northwest and wasn't subject to quarantine. Just a moment ago, the neighborhood committee received a notice from the police station that he could go.
But changes always come faster than plans. Since the liberation, China has been at the forefront of the world in terms of prevention and treatment of infectious diseases. The capital, once mobilized, becomes an incredibly united place.
Although the official stance on SARS hasn't been formally announced yet, the actions taken by the streets, police stations, and neighborhood committees have been astonishingly swift.
Just as the Maliye family was about to leave, news came from the airport that someone in the waiting hall they had been in had been discovered with unexplained fever. As a result, they were all required to be quarantined on the spot, at the Bayi Hotel.
So the Maliye family was quarantined again.
Little Wang felt that Yan Xishan shouldn't come now. It was okay to acknowledge family ties, but not at this moment.
After all, everyone was fleeing the capital, and yet he was heading there. That didn't seem quite right.
"How can that be? Yan Wangqi, do you know? My real father's family is near the Yulong Kanan River. I've explored for coal there before. The coal quality isn't great, but there are large deposits of jade. You take care of my real father for me, and I'll be there soon!" Yan Xishan shouted.
"There's a contagious disease in the capital, very serious, Uncle Yan..."
"A contagious disease? Then I have even more reason to stay with my real father. I heard he has many sons, and it's better to divide the family assets while he's still alive. Yan Wangqi, you must protect my real father. You're protecting my jade mines, understand?" Yan Xishan said, while shouting to his wife: "Chen Chunmei, book the tickets right away. I'm going to the capital to find my real father!"
Little Wang hung up the phone, but Yan Xishan's constant mention of "real father" still echoed in his ears.
Since his professor title was stripped away, Yan Xishan had focused on the coal business for the past few years, traveling across the country in search of coal.
He must have been to Kanan and wandered around near Uncle Maliye's house.
Maybe he had already set his sights on the jade mines near his father's house?
Was this him acknowledging his father, or his wealth?
But regardless of whether he was acknowledging his father or his wealth, as long as he was willing to acknowledge the family, it proved one thing: Yan Xishan was a Buyi, not a Yan. That meant Yuanyuan had no blood relation to him whatsoever.
For so many years, Little Wang had always felt a sense of guilt.
Blood ties were a taboo, and he was certain he liked Yan Shengnan.
But he hadn't even dared to mention it. The photo Chen Meilan gave him had strengthened Little Wang's resolve, giving him the motivation to seek the truth. And today, he had finally confirmed this.
Throughout the capital, people were desperately trying to flee, as if it were a great exodus.
Every exit of the capital was tightly controlled by the public security, urban management, military, neighborhood committees, and all other organized forces. Temperature checks, questioning of travel history, and checkpoints were everywhere.
Everyone's faces were filled with panic, except for Yan Wangqi, who spread his arms wide, grinning, and ran home.
Once home, he first told Chen Meilan about the situation with Uncle Maliye's family and Yan Xishan. Seeing Chen Meilan just staring at him and smiling without saying anything, he knew his mother approved of the situation.
So, his marriage to Yuanyuan would also be a natural progression, right?
To show his commitment, he immediately began acting like a dutiful grandson at home.
Recently, the neighborhood committee had been recruiting people to run errands, buying groceries and delivering meals to quarantined households. Little Wang actively signed up and became a 'neighborhood model,' receiving praise for his efforts. At home, he cooked meals, and outside, he treated quarantined households with patience, never retaliating even if scolded.
After two days, he had received so much praise that he earned two little red flowers.
But the situation took a sharp turn the next day. Maliye's nephew developed an unexplained fever and was taken to the hospital. On the third day, a person living downstairs also developed a fever and was found to be infected with SARS.
The severity of SARS symptoms was gradually being discovered.
Its fatality rate wasn't the most terrifying aspect; what was truly frightening was the unknown source of the virus and the incurable aftereffects.
The transmission method at the Bayi Hotel suggested that it could be airborne.
As a result, even those staying indoors had to wear masks. The entire building of the Bayi Hotel was in a state of panic, as everyone might have been infected or was waiting to be infected.
The military, public security, neighborhood committees, and medical staff from 301 Hospital had the building surrounded.
The Bayi Hotel had become a forbidden zone.
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But there were always those who moved against the tide. Today, a group of researchers from China's largest vaccine factory were reportedly heading to the Bayi Hotel to conduct virus transmission tests and collect samples.
In such situations, it was customary for medical staff to take the lead.
Chen Meilan learned about this from a phone call with Yan Zhao. Yan Zhao was also going, as he had been in contact with Little Lang, and the situation inside the Bayi Hotel was reportedly quite complex. Especially the Maliye family, with dozens of strong men, had different religions and beliefs, and their frustration at not being able to leave the country had built up a lot of resentment.
There was a fear that if things weren't handled carefully, they might cause trouble.
There had been no precedent for police forcibly taking over a place, and a forced takeover, especially in the current uncertain situation with the epidemic and international attention on the capital, could cause a stir internationally. Therefore, Yan Zhao led a team from the Ministry of Public Security to enter the Bayi Hotel personally to assess the situation with the Maliye family's sons and grandsons.
Chen Meilan hadn't seen Yan Zhao for several days, and she knew how serious SARS was. Worried that his protection wasn't sufficient, she grabbed her phone and, along with Little Wang, rushed to the hotel as soon as she heard they were about to arrive.
The street entrance was already cordoned off, but as Yan Zhao's group got out of the car, among the crowd of people wearing white protective suits, Chen Meilan immediately recognized her husband.
"Yan Zhao," she called out.
In such circumstances, the most important thing was the safety of the family.
Even though the TV had repeatedly reminded them, she needed to see for herself if their protection was adequate. SARS, once contracted, even if cured, could leave endless aftereffects. Chen Meilan had described the severity of this many times to Yan Zhao, but she had to reiterate it again.
Yan Zhao didn't have time to talk to Chen Meilan much.
Knowing she would be worried about Yuanyuan, and fearing that Chen Meilan wouldn't hear him through the protective suit, he tossed a notebook from a distance. Little Wang jumped up to catch it, and inside, it read: Yuanyuan is at Zhongsheng Group, in the vaccine research lab. Don't worry, she's safe.
Yuanyuan had only mentioned on the day she left that she had been invited to join a team led by her mentor.
But if Yan Zhao hadn't mentioned it, Chen Meilan would never have imagined that her daughter would be involved in this epidemic and would be working on vaccine development.
Vaccine development was a closed-off process, so Yuanyuan should be quite safe for now.
She finally felt a bit more at ease.
In the blink of an eye, Yan Zhao and his team had entered the Bayi Hotel.
Chen Meilan wanted to watch a bit longer, but Little Wang pulled her back: "Let's go, Mom. Didn't you hear? The virus can spread through the air. Let's go home quickly."
Though close in distance, Chen Meilan could see a dark figure through an open window, too far to make out clearly. But vaguely, she felt it might be Little Lang.
In her previous life, Chen Meilan had heard a legend that young people were more likely to contract SARS and less likely to be cured.
Now the Bayi Hotel had become a source of infection, and everyone inside would face the test of whether they would be infected. Was Little Lang safe? Would he be infected?
She didn't know if the shadow she saw was Little Lang, but Chen Meilan stood in the courtyard, waving through the iron gate. Even if she couldn't help, the fact that mother and son could see each other was a form of support for the child.
Inside the Bayi Hotel.
What Chen Meilan had seen flash by was indeed Little Lang.
He had been living in turmoil these past few days, and now he was in a life-and-death situation with his eldest brother, Mike.
Among Uncle Yu's three older brothers, John had a work visa at Union Hospital and would return to China to work after graduating with a master's degree. Jim, on the other hand, was still in university, but together with John, they had translated many modern Chinese novels. One of these, a science fiction novel titled "The Village Teacher," had caused a significant stir in the United States upon its translation.
It was said that most American literary enthusiasts only began to realize that China not only had literature but also science fiction through this novel. Upon its publication, it was even named one of the top ten science fiction works of the year in the United States.
The reviewer's comment was: "The ancient Eastern legends, combined with the author's professional-level scientific theories, make 'The Village Teacher' a work that possesses a charm unmatched by Western literature."
That was the result of John and Jim's collaboration.
They were the ones who brought Eastern culture to the West, and they were Little Lang's older brothers.
So, Little Lang had come to his eldest brother, Mike, with a familial love, expecting Mike to be his life mentor and someone he could get along with very well.
He had even fantasized about the two of them spending the next half month talking about everything under the sun, happily passing the time.
But reality was cruel. The moment Mike pushed Maliye, he became Little Lang's enemy. Not only did he use every tactic to escape, but he was also extremely restless, refusing to listen to any persuasion.
Even when television and newspapers were reporting that this was a severe infectious disease, and two people within the Eight-One Hotel had already fallen ill, Mike still refused to wear a mask.
What harm could a small mask do?
But every time one was given to him, Mike would use it to wipe his nose and throw it away, saying, "This is my democracy and freedom."
Little Lang wasn't the type to back down. When Mike tried to escape, Little Lang would knock him down. When Mike tried to ambush him, Little Lang had the riot spray ready, giving him a dose and making sure his mask was secure.
For several days, the two were confined to the same room, but even while sleeping, they both kept one eye open to guard against each other.
Just a moment ago, Little Lang was standing by the window. He saw Chen Meilan inside the family courtyard's iron gate. It had been a few days since he had seen his mother, and she must have been worried about him, as she kept waving in his direction.
But in the instant Little Lang waved back, Mike, knowing he couldn't beat him, didn't choose to ambush him. Instead, he took advantage of Little Lang's distraction and slipped out the door.
The situation in other rooms was also dire.
Two consecutive days had seen two confirmed cases, causing panic throughout the hotel.
Although most people had accepted the need for quarantine and were waiting for the results, Maliye's eldest son and a few of his nephews were furious. They didn't trust the television or newspapers and instead interpreted the situation as the country not wanting them to go abroad and disrespecting their beliefs.
They were staying in the rooms opposite Little Lang. Although they couldn't talk through the walls, everyone had a phone, and through it, rumors spread like wildfire. With the unclear situation outside, their resentment grew stronger.
When lunch was delivered today, Maliye's nephew Mati saw Little Lang picking up the food at the door. He suddenly opened the door and threw a big bag of garbage at Little Lang's feet, cursing with a vulgar phrase that Little Lang could understand.
Little Lang endured it and even voluntarily cleaned up the garbage.
But he knew better than anyone that there were sparks of discontent in the hotel, and not just one. If no one ignited them, they might quietly die out. But if someone accidentally blew on them, even slightly, and those sparks turned into flames, the quarantined people would erupt.
As part of the Army's jurisdiction, the entire Army would be humiliated in front of the world.
And just then, Mike had run out, shouting in English, "This is a lie!"
Then, in Chinese, he yelled, "This is a lie; there's no such thing as an infectious disease..."
Little Lang couldn't believe his eyes as he watched his blood-related brother. This wasn't just a spark; he was a bomb, a ticking time bomb.
At that moment, the public security officers and various epidemic prevention units had just arrived on the floor.
People only saw a shadow flash by, and the door slammed shut.
With bloodshot eyes and having gone days without sleep, Mike was shoved back into the room by Little Lang. Little Lang clenched his fist and punched Mike in the temple. If that punch had landed solidly, Mike would have suffered a brain hemorrhage.
But the punch stopped just in time, and Little Lang pulled back his hand.
However, one stone stirs up a thousand waves. When Little Lang spoke those words, everyone in the other rooms heard them.
On this floor, there were thirteen rooms, all occupied by Maliye's sons and nephews.
Just then, the biotechnology company's staff arrived to open the doors for inspection and sampling. Immediately, there were knocks on the doors, screams, and cries for help.
Yan Zhao was chatting with the manager, gathering information.
"Is Uncle Maliye alone?" he asked.
The manager replied, "Originally, it should have been two people per bed, but Maliye's sons and grandsons felt that staying with the old man would disturb his rest, so they gave him a separate room."
Yan Zhao had been contacting various parties over the past few days, investigating Maliye's family situation.
Maliye was a hardworking, warm-hearted, and very kind man, but his eldest son liked to show off, his second son was rather radical, and one of his nephews was a tough guy who ran with the wrong crowd in Kana.
Keeping Maliye's family stable meant keeping the Eight-One Hotel stable.
And as the head of the family, Maliye should, in theory, be able to stabilize his large family.
But it seemed normal for young people to subconsciously not want to spend half a month with an old man.
As they walked, Yan Zhao took out his phone, already having a plan in mind.
"Point out to me which room his eldest and second sons are in, and call them together," he said.
The manager pointed to a room and said, "They're together, in this room."
Yan Zhao pushed the door open. He had expected to see two people, but instead, there were four.
Normally, there should have been two people per room. Why were there four?
This proved that these people hadn't strictly followed the hotel's rules and had been sneaking around, contacting each other when the protection personnel weren't paying attention.
As Yan Zhao entered, the four tall, burly men stood up simultaneously. The room was filled with a foul smell due to their long confinement.
"Which one is Ati?" Yan Zhao asked.
A middle-aged man stood up, raising his hand. This was Maliye's eldest son, currently the president of the Kana Chamber of Commerce.
"You, go and stay with Uncle Maliye," Yan Zhao said while dialing a phone number.
By having the eldest son stay with Maliye, they were combining the family's oldest and most authoritative member with the head of the family, which could help stabilize their emotions to some extent.
But the eldest son quickly waved his hand, "No, I'll stay here. It's fine; we four are isolating together, and it's very comfortable. My father is used to living alone; if I go, he won't sleep well."
Was it because he was afraid his father wouldn't sleep well, or did he just want to stay with his brothers and nephews?
Yan Zhao's eyes narrowed.
The other three also chimed in, "My grandfather (my dad) is used to living alone."
Yan Zhao stared at the four men for a long time before dialing a number and pressing the speakerphone button. Wearing a protective mask, he had to hold the phone close to the mask and asked loudly, "Is this Yan Xishan, General Manager of Xishan Company in Xiping City?"
The other end echoed with a voice: "Yan Zhao, what kind of grandson are you pretending to be? Speak properly."
"You've been begging us to give you a chance to personally serve your biological father, Maliye. Now I agree. Come to the Eight-One Hotel to quarantine with him for 12 days!"
This statement left the four men stunned, and their faces showed extreme anger.
If it weren't for Uncle Maliye, their family would have already flown abroad. And why did Uncle Maliye delay their departure? It was because he suddenly discovered he had a forty-something-year-old illegitimate son.
So, one of the reasons Maliye's family was furious was this.
When they heard that Yan Zhao actually wanted to bring the old man's illegitimate son to the hotel, Maliye's eldest son could still hold back, but his two nephews couldn't. One of them stepped forward, pointing a finger, ready to argue with Yan Zhao.
Yan Zhao didn’t dodge or move; he just stared at the two young men and turned the phone toward them.
From the phone came Yan Xishan's elated voice: "Yan Zhao, you really are my dear brother! I'm coming, my mine... oh, no, my dear dad! I'm on my way! What's a little infectious disease? Even if I have to lie in a coffin, I'll lie with my dear dad! Oh, how I miss him!"
Everyone in the room was stunned at that moment, even Yan Zhao felt that Yan Xishan was perhaps a bit too loyal and loving toward his father.
But Yan Xishan, at any time, valued money more than his life.
Infectious disease?
He wasn't afraid.
He had already arrived in the capital. If it weren't for his father being quarantined, he would have already knelt before his father, who owned a vast jade mine without even knowing it.
A few men in the room, taller, fatter, and stronger than Yan Zhao, didn't want to separate. They still wanted to play tricks, and one even wanted to start a fight.
But when he met Yan Zhao's cold, piercing gaze through the transparent face shield, the kind that looked like the gaze of the King of Hell, he knew he was dealing with someone not to be trifled with. After just three seconds, he obediently passed by Yan Zhao and left.
The other two slumped down on the bed.
Yan Zhao put away the phone, gave a cold glance to the two men in the room, and turned to leave.
Ati probably never expected that his father's illegitimate son outside would be so enthusiastic, even risking his life to come to the hotel to accompany his father during the quarantine.
"Comrade," he raised his hand and chased after Yan Zhao, saying, "Let me go and stay with my father."
Yan Zhao stopped, his gaze obscured behind the transparent face shield.
What ethnic conflicts, what attempts to cause trouble, were nothing in the face of wealth.
So, there was no need for the police to intervene. As long as Ati went to stay with his father, the Eight-One Hotel would be stable!
...
Meanwhile, on the other side, Little Lang and Mike were still in a tense showdown.
Mike had already figured out Little Lang; he knew that even if he was furious, he would always hold back, not harming his own life.
His brother's mercy emboldened Mike, allowing him to test the limits of the other's restraint. With that knowledge, he felt no fear.
Lying on the ground, Mike just happened to see his guitar standing in the corner of the wall. Suddenly, he reached out, grabbed the guitar, and tried to use it to smash Little Lang's head for a decisive blow.
But Little Lang seemed to have eyes on the back of his head. With a quick grab, he snatched the guitar and with a loud crack, it was about to shatter.
The guitar, with a whoosh of wind, was aimed straight at Mike's head.
"You damn soldier, come on, smash it!" Mike roared.
In the next room, there were two kids, quarantined with their parents. Recently, because they couldn't go out, they had been crying a lot. The loud roar from Mike scared them again, and they started crying, sobbing non-stop.
Mike continued to curse: "Yan Minglang, you damn mule! All you know is being a soldier, all you know is killing! What do you know about art? What do you know about music? What do you know about freedom, democracy, and justice? Do you understand the meaning of pursuing music and performance? Do you know how much I yearn for the stage as a musician? You don't! You're a mule, you're a cow! You can't even appreciate music!"
Little Lang grabbed the guitar, bent down to look at his brother, and after a long stare, suddenly stood up. He moved a stool to the door, sat down, adjusted the guitar strings, and in front of his brother, he started tuning the guitar?
First, he tuned the strings, then played a prelude, and then Little Lang began to play. However, he played a phrase, then stopped.
He played another phrase, then stopped again, listening carefully to the next room.
Gradually, the crying of the children in the next room stopped.
Then, Little Lang started playing again, very slowly, playing a note, then listening, and faintly, the children in the next room began to sing along with his tune: "If I had a magic wand, to grow big, grow small, grow beautiful, and have a home full of comics, chocolate, and toys..."
Lying on the ground, his eyes bloodshot, Mike stared like a dying rabbit.
He saw Little Lang's lips curl into a smile as he continued to play, and in the next room, the children continued to sing: "If I had a robotic cat, I'd call him Ding Dong. With the Bamboo Copter and the Time Tunnel, I could go anywhere."
What was this? The tenderness of a tough special forces soldier?